Sequoia Coast but life is long my love is gone away

Their play, more of a slaughter to some, invigorated her wearied limbs. She pounced upon those that the streaking bird flung downwards when she could -- others who were unfortunate to flap too close to her flinging jaws were sent tumbling to the ground only to be slain.

However, the scatter was shortlived for her -- dutifully, she watched the raven ravage those in the sky. He looked not unlike a gloomy missile -- a stark black against whirling stormcloud grey. She lacked the graceful wings to carry herself upwards with him -- and instead witnessed the spectacle as a piteously earthbound derelict.

Perhaps Bartok would weary of his endeavors, and flutter down alongside her -- but for now, she delighted in the cacophonous chaos he delivered to the heavens above.