A macaw, indeed

It is fairly acceptable, Edgar Sawtelle.

You pave our own path without regrets ;X; from genegeerde pijn spouts a root of sorrow.

All streams should be passed, none avoided in the name of fear; it will stick, never to be washed away; no matter what the owl says, the fox ever lurks in the shadows.

The gold is there to be found if dug up; the beauty of a camera not just by glancing.

"How can a misty day be mistaken for a thunderstorm? A breeze for a sandstorm?"

A business transaction, a conversation, none can be practiced without two-way feelings, to want to buy-to want to sell, to want to talk-to want to hear. It is not for the eagle to say that it will not hunt anymore, nor the rabbit to tell the eagle to not hunt it. A pair of eyes, not a single one.

A macaw. Choices without regrets.