Qeya River Clubhouse

They’re dead, Ksura commented between breaths, as Sun Eater peered over the cliff’s edge. He huffed a deep breath, licked his lips, and continued to pant. 

Oddly enough, seeing Sun Eater stand at the edge of the cliff didn’t trigger the notion to give him a shove. The thrill of the hunt seemed to have either satisfied him or tired him out…Possibly both.

Once he’d caught his breath, he licked his lips once more and gestured with a tilt of his head away from the pair of stones that had marked the gateway of demise for the lambs. Shortest way down, this way, He said, picking his way up the slope, to where he knew a safe passage would lead them down to where the lambs bled.

A shadow overtook him. When he looked up, all it took was a glimpse of long, brown feathers and a hooked, yellowish beak for him to hiss through his teeth. 

Golden eagles weren’t necessarily scavengers- but with such fresh, tender flesh available, the great bird would not waste the opportunity and dipped out of sight toward the lower grounds. Ksura barked in frustration, and began to scramble down through the rattling scree.