Sheepeater Cliff soronúmë

Every beat that took place after his initial onslaught was a blur.

The strike.
The fury.
The earsplitting cries of a flightless sovereign.

It was only at the sharp clang of teeth meeting air that pulled the yearling from his adrenaline fueled trance, heartbeat ringing in the back of his skull while the world spun around him. They had succeeded, proof now helplessly jerking about the earth's floor, desperately trying to take flight and flee it's predestined end.

It's partner however, charged with the ire of a madman, sought vengeance against it's offenders. Dagwood, slender and quick on his toes, moved as if a lighting bolt had sprung from his legs. Fangs soon met flesh but before he had any chance to retreat from the eagles wrath, talons sunk their way deep into his breast, sucking all air from the monochrome yearling with them.