Wheeling Gull Isle take a backseat, or play pharaoh.

accipitra had little time to swallow. truth be told, gobbling and swallowing were two different, far reaching concepts. instinct only told her so much — a biological imperative commanded her to put anything exciting in her mouth. 

 the elytra rested on her tongue, a new delightfully smooth texture for her to remember. 

but all was not right in her world. the eyes darkened and swung towards her now, a trail of malevolent sparks streaming across her vision as pain — the first true pain she had ever tasted — snarled across her senses. 

she screamed and the elytra fluttered from her mouth to the den floor. a dribble of blood pooled at her lips, and for the first time in her young life, accipitra wailed.