Duck Lake chromakey dreamcoat

His would-be hunt was short lived, interrupted by a hollering woman who materialised out of the undergrowth and charged at the birds with rambunctious glee. Under any other circumstance, Lucca would have joined her. But for now he was much too hungry to do so. Also sad. And tired. In response, all he felt was a flicker of frustration for the first time ever — his first real taste of anger at another.

A chance at food had been right there, and she had RUINED it.

The Blackthorn felt a scowl cross his features (that ended up looking more like an awkward grimace), and he strode forwards along the shoreline to where the multi-coloured woman now stood victorious, feathers drifting lazily back to earth around her. "Hey, that was..." his confidence and anger died in his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. They felt much too harsh, much too wrong to be coming from him. Lucca sucked in a breath and instead went with, "...pretty cool."