Turtle Island keelhaul

-- the beach across from turtle island: early afternoon --

 The chilled tide lapped rhythmically against the shoreline – the clear, crystalline waters glistening with the warm gaze of the sun, unspoiled by ominous, slothful clouds or hazy veils of dense condensation.  Upon the silken granules of the beach, a scene unfolded: black feathers danced lazily in the breeze, tugged gently by the inhalations of the sea, bloodied toe-prints pressed into the sand alike withered rose petals woefully scattered upon the desiccant soils of a parched waste.  The atmosphere beamed as though spring were upon the horizon – cheerful, with luminous rays to kiss the cheeks, and warm the skin – yet wintry callousness pervaded, tempting teeth to wane the exuberance of life.  Blood pearled upon the kinked whiskers of his muzzle, pooled upon the lubricious flesh of his jowls – a decisive crunch of hollowed bone resonating in the air.  The sea fowl was perhaps, sick, for it had chosen not to migrate to warmer waters: an easy, tempting sacrifice to his acceptant gullet which could not fathom pickiness.  His toes furled, avariciously curling into the stilled, feathered corpse, claws purchasing thin flesh to steady it as he pulled and languidly dined upon the neck.  It was not a prudish feast – he lacked such manners.  He gorged like the improperly brackish beast he was.

@Wyatt sorry for the rushed quality, i didn't have a lot of time my love~ <3