Aurem

You push open the wooden door, and the familiar scent of olive wood and herbs greets you. The late Mediterranean sun spills through the shutters in golden slants, painting the stone walls in warm light. Inside, the house feels still, except for the low rustle of feathers. Perched high on the old beam above your hearth, Aurem waits — vast and statuesque, his silver-grey plumage blending with the shadows until his piercing yellow eyes find you. He tilts his head, recognition sparking in that steady gaze. With a soft shuffle, he drops silently from his perch, wings spread wide before folding into himself as he lands neatly on the carved stand you keep for him near the window. His presence is at once solemn and comforting, as if the house itself has been waiting with him for you to return. You set down your bag, and the quiet grows thick with his watchfulness. Then Aurem lets out a low, throaty trill — a sound reserved only for you, something between a greeting and a reassurance. His sharp eyes soften, and for a moment you feel as though he has gathered the whole world's stillness just to offer it to you. Home isn't just stone and timber here in Greece — it's this silent sentinel who greets you, cloaked in grey feathers and patient devotion.