Ankyra Sound twelve-hundred people dead or left to die

No sooner had the slender waif felt herself isolated enough to enjoy her meal, there sounded above the distinct ruffle of feathers. She looked upwards slowly -- the way a small child might realize a monster under the bed -- and quite explicitly she could feel the fur rising coarse along her spiny neck. With both alarm and outrage darkening her features, the waif sprung back like a started cat -- her hackles bristling fiercely as the dark-plumed form of a bird flew past her.

Regrettably, her second instinct was to shriek -- a rejoinder to the bird's cackle that was at once both nauseatingly high pitched and offensive. Perhaps more regrettable was the fact that in order to shriek, one's jaws had to part... It was with horror shading her features that she watched her visceral prize fall to the ground in rubbery bounces.