Luneshale Pass Black moon

he grasped her words like a whip on fire, his answer a crack in the dry air.

she paused her feast, a clamorous shrill of amusement echoed from her abdomen. "then perhaps i am not an omen for you, but for your enemies." 

she let the sight of him reflect in her gamboge eyes. enemies, enemies — come seek your death with the winged reaper. 

she stripped yet another piece of flesh from the goat as he questioned her again. she glance down towards the offering, feathers ruffled with bewitchment. no words escaped her, only speechless curiosity. 

what do you think?, her eyes challenged.