Cerulean Cape Owl

as lestan watched the man leave, a dark welling of something indescribable turned his tongue to wormwood. 
jealousy. anger. frustration. and now the faintest lacings of a perhaps misplaced hatred, its coils stirring in the bleak places below his soul.
at length, lestan turned away to hunt along the beachline, miseried and filled with a thousand things.