The bird traveled from the far side of the mountains; bored now of what was there. Nothing but foxes. No females.
To let out his fustrastions, he sought a victim. Someone to heckle and dive upon. He flew into woodland, nimbly flitting through the trees to take cover from the brewing storm. Any animal could sense it; unless they were touched. He called, letting out a screech.
Birds didn't talk, at least he didn't. What was there to talk about? Well, a few things he supposed, but he didn't talk. Only cooed and screeched. His muscles twitched as he weaved through the trees, searching for prey; lupine or otherwise.
If he could dive upon it, he would. If he could eat it, he would. He called out again, this time sharper and curter before wheeling around a tree and flying back and alighted on a branch, looking down below.
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What you gonna do - by Blindside - February 01, 2019, 01:10 PM