Dragoncrest Cliffs two minutes, turkish.

she chews, she glares
silver scales neatly sliding down a darkened throat 
cayetano licks his lips
fish gristle hanging from whiskers. 

sometimes i think about food.
he admits, taking another piece 
he winces as something bitter hits his tongue
maybe the fish ate a particularly nasty bug
lots of nasty things underwater. 

but really, what’s better? 
name one thing.