The bird knew one thing well- fliezzes. Floating on the dry Savannah current by crystalline waterspouts, he looked down at the tiny sturdy AdamEve nests and thought, no AdamEve will want to turn into me, because I'm not a swan, and no AdamEve is going to love me-I'm not an owl, but that's ok and hunky-dory because, then again, no wheep can catch a fliezze like me.