Ankyra Sound Wretched thing

Songbirds filled the trees with a cacophany of delighted tweets and chatter, their muses carrying on the breeze, and bouncing off of black-tipped audits. 

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How she longed to open them up and glimpse the part responsible for creating such abhorrent noise. It was unique, undoutbtedly, far different from the chords that strung the words fallen from her own mouth. But god, their chatter was incessant.

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Fruitless, her journey had been. Unsuccessful in every which way it could be. At the very least, she'd procured the hide of an old rabbit, too slow to react to the gnashing jaws of his killer. It was a mangled mess really, hardly reminiscent of that which had triumphed through seasons, sired hosts of generations; and she had reduced it to her next meal, quite vigorously. Pitiful end, poor rabbit. 

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Envy made her way furtherin towards the coast, the redtail, shmed tail, whatevers, hadn't been the most... accomodating. None of the ones she saw even had red tails. Frauds. She'd scoff into the fur of the rabbit hung loosely from previously pallid jaws. Right here was fine then! Right at the precipice of where the water met the land, she'd slump onto her side with a dramatic groan. She missed the comfort of pack life everytime she lay her head upon harsh stone or cradled her form within the roots of a gnarled tree, where had the warmth of another gone? She was unworthy of it. Bad. All wrong. Mother would laugh. 

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Pearly forelimbs slung over one-another, she tore piece by piece from her kill; no care for grace nor manner, just a ravenous inclination, satiated.