Hushed Willows furnace

if you have time/want to, of course! <3 c:

 

Deep in the thick boughs of the cascading weeping willows the dark wraith hunted. He'd had his breakfast and after that had hunted to contribute to a cache before he'd taken to continuing his fulfillment of the promise he'd made Banner: add to her feather collection; though specifically he had in mind the more recent promise: he'd find her a colorful songbird to celebrate her promotion that she could gleam feathers from — surely a delicate project due to how small they were but that was why he let that process to her and just brought her the corpse. The songbird had been hopping through the short grasses between the cascades of willow vines when Buchanan spotted it: it's blue hued feathers standing out in stark contrast against the green and brown of the world around it. The male cerulean warbler was small, bearing colors of cerulean blue, black, white and teal within it's plumage.

Buchanan wasn't sure how long he waited there, crouched in the shadows, waiting. Waiting until it was distracted wrestling a writhing, fat, pink worm from the soil before he launched himself at it, caging the small songbird in with his paws. It fluttered and screeched in terror, both of which gradually became weaker though this went unknown to the assassin as he busied himself with how to execute his plan. Killing it would be a delicate matter in and of itself, he knew, not wanting to present Banner with a horribly mangled body. Except as he spent time contemplating the best way to go about it, the fluttering and torrid screeching ceased and the bird was eerily still in it's cage. Slowly, he bowed his body down and moved his paws slowly, ever so slightly to peek to assess. The bird had died whether from heart failure from it's fear, or suffocation Buchanan couldn't be sure. For a moment as he moved his paws back to ensure that the bird's chest wasn't moving — it wasn't — the assassin frowned down at it.

It had suffered and in part, the dark wraith felt bad about that. He tried to execute quick deaths: to minimalism the suffering. The guilt was easy to brush off, however, in lieu of the fact that he had been intending to kill it anyway and it's death had been clean. Gathering the stunning warbler's corpse lightly betwixt his jaws, his grip light and easy upon it's delicate body, he made his way towards @Banner's place, unsure if she'd be there or out and about tending to her Beta duties. Regardless, Buchanan thought it was probably a good place to start.