Lion Head Mesa Winds Of Sorrow

He backed up, regaining his defensive stance. The bird in question seemed more...aggressive than her kind usually is. He ran into a few of them before, but they tend to run away. Maybe this one couldn't since she was injured from the storm. He also reasoned that it was his bloody mouth that could've agitated her. Even after trying to wash it off at the lake, he still noticed it would stain his fur for who-knows-how-long. He backed off, trying to put the bird at ease. For all he knew, she was friends with some other big bird in the area. He snuck a glance to the sky as if to anticipate one flying down on him. Looking at the bird once again, he started to walk away.

I don't mean any harm, just a bit curious of what you were. He stopped himself in his tracks, awaiting a response from the bird.