Once upon a time, in a lush green forest, a crow named Oliver loved perching on the highest branch of a mighty oak tree. From there, he could observe the bustling activity of the forest's diverse inhabitants. Oliver, with his jet-black feathers and a mischievous nature, often found himself entertained by the happenings around him.
One sunny morning, as Oliver was enjoying the tranquility, he spotted a pig named Penelope waddling through a muddy patch nearby. Penelope, a plump and friendly pig, had a glossy coat of deep black. The sight of her caught Oliver's attention, and a mocking caw escaped his beak.
"Look at that pig!" Oliver exclaimed, unable to contain his laughter. "She's so black and muddy. How funny she must look!"
Unbeknownst to Oliver, his laughter echoed through the forest and reached Penelope's ears. Startled, she halted her muddy adventure and glanced up at the crow.
"Why are you laughing at me, Oliver?" Penelope asked, her voice laced with sadness.
Oliver, feeling a pang of guilt, flapped his wings and flew down to where Penelope stood.
"I apologize, Penelope," Oliver said, his tone now remorseful. "I laughed at your blackness without realizing that I am just as dark."
Penelope looked at Oliver, puzzled. "What do you mean? You are black, but you are a crow. It's natural for you to be that way."
Oliver nodded, acknowledging Penelope's words. "You're right, Penelope. My feathers are black, and I took pleasure in laughing at you without considering the irony. But darkness comes in many forms, not just in appearances."