Fox's Glade i’m going to break something

condor had to admit: there was some dignity to blood. more than there was in the muck tangled up in buzzard’s coat, at least. no, a scavenger bird should not mind a little blood; he even enjoyed it at times. perhaps not quite to vulture’s level.

but there was also more dignity to be found in her fondness for caking herself with it than there was to be found in buzzard’s hasty riposte, which only succeeded in – well, to be truthful, condor was not sure what he hoped to gain by suggesting he found toads hot.

“it’s very noble of you to keep the hordes from those of us who have taste.” condor lowered his muzzle somberly, a feigned show of respect that didn’t have the chance to last, busy as he was waiting for the implication to swell vulture’s head like a balloon.

“so picky in your choice of free meal, darling. food is food…though i do love a chase.” his smile widened. “perhaps we should each pick our own direction? and reconvene here when we’ve found some…targets.”