The Tangle nereo

@Itsy

Louis slid down the smooth surface of a rain-damp branch, his black claws clasp tight around the uninterrupted oakbark. He tilted his head mechanically this way and that, his black eye fixed hungrily on an acorn below.

There was only one problem. That acorn was in the greedy hands of a fucking squirrel.

Louis had seen that acorn first, he knew it. With an offended rustle of his wings, Louis considered what to his best course of action was. Actually, considering was a gross exaggeration: Louis had in fact already made up his mind the second he saw that acorn. Because that acorn was his.

He rustled his wings once more and dropped from the branch, which sprung back under his weight and shed several droplets of rain in the process. In a flurry of blue and grey, Louis fell on the squirrel with his talons raking for anything he could get. The squirrel, unused to such a violation of its personal space, let loose a girlish squeal and ran.

Victorious, Louis strutted around the dropped acorn, his feathers fluffed out and his wings folded neatly behind him.