Wheeling Gull Isle dance with me and shake your bones.

a limb loomed from the dark. accipitra measured its progress with watchful eyes as it came down upon her head and smooshed her. 

what?

this new sensation of being pinned — she fought against it, squirmed in the manner of a snake under thumb. release me! her little jaws parted and a throaty growl gurgled from between her teeth. 

when that didn’t work accipitra did what came naturally to her species for millennia: bite.