Duck Lake a game you're gonna lose

pssshh your writing is lovely as usual

She'd been so caught up in her own frustrations, Kipling did not notice the snow clad figure until he rose to speak. His humor roused her to lift her head, forcing a snort of amusement while her eyes rolled at his brazen attitude. She'd probably have been the same way had the roles been switched, and felt somewhat embarrassed at her outburst not having meant for anyone to see. Just being cautious. She mused, gaze shifting back to exam the work she'd done on the heap that now resembled just a mesh of feathers, flesh and bone. You can never be sure about... zombies. If by some miracle the duck had been resurrected at this point, she would have felt bad for it for being some form of alive in such a state.

Her own eyes nowhere near as striking as his own even in broad daylight, though that was not the reason she lifted them away after a quick glance. He made no move towards her 'food' at this point, but if he had she wouldn't have stopped him for several reasons. The first being while she could've fought he'd probably leave her with injures she was in no position to recover from, and second, her appetite seemed to have dissolved with his heavy cloud of doubt hazing over her senses. For now she was content with the mutual peace between them.