Dawnlark Plains no, they won't be home tonight

So absorbed in checking on Grayday was Shale that he didn't notice the approach of his mate, and shuddered when she touched him, flinching away. Like a wounded animal, shoulders hunched, he stared at her, eyes dark, hollow globes in his head. It took a couple of moments for her words to make sense, to reach him.

"They keep p-picking at him," Shale stammered, taking a ragged breath. In sudden exasperation, he kicked some dirt over a feather by his paw. "They won't leave him alone. Cawing and crowing. They're trying to eat him."

He didn't understand the fascination. Birds flew over his head all the time; occasionally they'd shit on his head, but that was the extent of his interactions with the winged creatures. But they'd started to descend upon Grayday, their gazes hungry and depraved. He'd scared away several birds, but the crow had been the first he'd killed since keeping vigil at the body; it would not be the last, he reckoned.

"I don't understand, Pema. I just don't." Shale hung his head, swallowing. "I feel like I'm falling. Like I've fallen off this cliff that just lasts forever." He had been afraid of hitting the bottom, at first, but now it seemed like the landing, however painful, would be better than being forever suspended in the air, gripped by terror.