Written and Illustrated by R. Freeland

The Scribble Birds reside in the Ink Forest, where words come alive and colors swirl like forgotten dreams. These avian artists defy convention; their feathers dipped in hues that defy the ordinary. Here’s a glimpse into their delightful existence:

Origins of Chaos: The Scribble Birds emerged from a cosmic ink spill, a celestial accident that left them with ink-stained wings and a penchant for mischief. Legend has it that the Great Quill sneezed during a celestial calligraphy session, and voilà—the Scribble Birds were born!

Feathered Artistry: Each bird possesses a unique talent. Some doodle sunsets on tree bark, while others create abstract patterns in midair. Their nests are woven with poetic verses, and their eggs bear intricate sketches of forgotten constellations.

Playful Escapades: Scribble Birds love to play hide-and-seek with moonbeams, leaving cryptic messages on dew-kissed petals. They’ve been spotted rearranging cloud formations into limericks and turning rainbows into elaborate graffiti.

Ink-Spattered Pranks: The Scribble Birds gather for their nightly escapades when the forest sleeps. They swap squirrel tails with fern fronds, paint mustaches on sleeping owls, and replace acorns with tiny quills. The forest wakes up to delightful chaos.

Whispers of Whimsy: Scribble Birds communicate through ink blots and fluttering syllables. Their laughter sounds like spilled ink on parchment, and their songs—oh, their songs—are whispered secrets set to melody.

Mischief Manifesto: Their most audacious feat? Convincing the moon to wear polka-dotted pajamas during the lunar eclipse. The moon blushed, and the stars giggled.

Guardians of Imagination: Scribble Birds protect the forest’s creative energy. When writer’s block descends, they flutter around struggling poets, whispering forgotten metaphors and inspiring haikus.

But beware! Cross a Scribble Bird, and your shoelaces might tie into poetic knots, or your coffee mug might spill ink instead of latte. They mean no harm; mischief is their art form.

So next time you glimpse an ink-streaked feather or hear a rustle in the leaves, know that the Scribble Birds are near, weaving whimsy into the fabric of reality.