Firefly Glen blood in eden

Only when the end result was clear did the eagle launch once more from his comfortable place in the trees. Circling a single time, he flew overhead, watching the pack bite and tear at the beast. The eagle had seen many fall to it, and had he believed that the creature would fell all of them, he may even have sided with it.

Those of his kind knew well that all things have their time. All things end. Should the stars have aligned differently, it was he who would have been first to assist with the strongest of the group. In this case, it was the mountain queen and her followers, not the beast, that had earned the reputation for strength. It was she who held it too as the creature fell to its side.

The eagle descended, landing upon the shoulder fur, matted from wounds. He outstretched his wings as though to claim it, aggressively flaring the crest of feathers on his head as he did. Ravens had already gathered, as before. Trusting only that the mountain queen would keep her word, he dug his hatchet-like beak into the open wound and pulled at the flesh, pushing down with his talons for better leverage.