Sheepeater Cliff A winding, weaving fate to which we both atone

@Bane bane bane ;D

[table width=70%][tr][td]

Grievous had reached a stage in his life where very few things still tended to galvanize him. He had never been particularly interested in the enchantments of nature, nor had he ever seen value in what was the very subjective topic of beauty. This left very little in the world to leave an impression on the virile swain.

Not that his particular tastes were impossible to encounter; they just materialized very few and far between.

And on this singularly bright day, marking the final flee of a still-clinging winter, he found his interest piqued by movement high above him; a perilous scene playing out against the impossibly steep cliffs he would never think to climb himself. He spotted the eagle first— a creature with a wingspan easily the length of his entire body, if not more— and second he noticed what it was circling:

A climbing,  unsuspecting ram.

Grievous watched, his jaw slack in bright-eyed amusement, as the bird dove and latched onto the poor ungulate's hind limb, managing to snatch it from its tenuous hold on the mountainside, sending the bighorn plummeting fast to its death.

[/td][/tr][/table]