Stavanger Bay let me down so i can fly, fly, fly

Raptor's tastebuds had been burned off when he licked the sun.

Or at least that's what he might tell anyone who inquired about his ability to eat seemingly anything, unaffected by whatever foul and or pungent tastes it might harbor and certainly not deterred by any questionable textures. He was a carrion eater after all and had an acquired taste for the oozing, the slimy, the squishy and the raunchy — and it was all the better when it was steeped in salt.

Raptor swallowed what he did not know was roe and other assorted innards before he turned to the underside of the legs. There was meat and he tore himself off a chunk of that, chewing noisily as he lifted his head and flexed his ears toward Sandpiper. "Not having any?" He said, his voice a bit muffled as he continued to chew. He took his paw and shoved the domed shell toward her.

He looked then to the inlet she spoke about and swallowed. "Good t'know but..." Raptor rolled his shoulders. "There are easier things to eat." He did not know what it took to kill one of these things, but it had taken quite a bit of muscle to pry one open.