Heron Lake Plateau We are old and our son took the dog away

Feathers flew. If there was blood, that was probably everywhere too, but he couldn't tell beyond the "seeing red" of another variety. Soon the bird was in scattered pieces and he was grinding his teeth in to the breastbone, propping it between his thin forelimbs awkwardly. At this point Niamh popped up out of nowhere and he nearly deep-throated a tiny pheasant wing out of surprise, and was left gagging. He had no answer for her at first (too busy trying to breathe and get the chunks out of his mouth) but then he'd spit it all up and stood up, looming over the remains.

The fuck you want? He blurted, seemingly without thinking (as was the norm for Screech), but he hadn't forgotten the subtle way the girl had ditched him. They hadn't shared space since their run-in with Finley and those idiot kids. As a follow up he tacked on venomously, If you're looking for your new friend Towhee, I can't help you. It was no secret they'd been spending more and more time together, their scents mingled all over the territory, and Screech was not ignorant to the talk of the others - that Niamh was picking up ptero with some ease. He should've been happy to see her integrating but Screech was a sore loser (and just, well, a loser in general), and was lashing out however he could.