Grouse Thicket a fresh new grave, a corpse i crave

His movement gave the fate pause, carmine eye rotating to focus on him, her head following in a sharp, almost bird-like movement. An ear twitched as he spoke, tail lashing once behind her as her stony gaze cut from him to the rotting heap behind him, flies buzzing about so loudly that she could hear them from a distance. The circle of life, she mused, as one death gave so many others life, insignificant though they may be.

No, The wriath rasped, her attention upon him once more. She did not eat under the gaze of others, especially when the meal was offered so freely. There was little to trust and the male's eagerness gave away the game he was playing at. Find another to prey upon. And the red wraith was certainly not prey.