Heron Lake Plateau how many people have to pretend to die.

@Niamh

Finley stalked in circles around the tree, growling and glaring into the upper branches where the hawk sat with the mouse in its talons. She did realize she wasn't capable of climbing trees, much as she would've liked to. Back when she was young, she definitely would have tried. Oh hell who am I kidding - she'd definitely tried to climb a ton of trees in her youth. It had never worked, and Fin had finally grown wise enough to accept defeat in that particular battle. She wasn't about to now, though. This was about justice.

The Blackthorn stopped and reared up onto her hind legs, placing her forepaws against the bark. "That was my kill, you son of a bitch," she barked fiercely. The bird merely blinked at her, though, and began to lower it's head towards the small carcass in its talons. Fin tilted her head, her eyes widening. "Don't you dare..." she growled, causing it to pause. It blinked at her once, then tore into it with its beak.

Fin's muzzle parted as her rage spilled out. "How DARE you, you little fucker, I will fuckin'.. I... RAAAAAA--" she roared as she dropped back down onto all fours and began pacing again, fuming. "You know what? Huh? Think you're all bad ass and shit?" she said in a slightly wild tone, suddenly excited, "I'm gonna go get my god daughter, and her bird is gonna kick your ass! Yeah! How do you like that? Ya dirty old bitch."

The hawk went right on eating, and Finley determined that her trash talk needed some work.