AW. Looking for something positively nonsensical.
Louis had recently discovered the shore, and all of its exciting inhabitants (no acorns tho, -10 points). The seagulls, a gregarious bunch that were particularly assertive in their bids for food, didn't care about his acorns. They did care if he had any other sort of food; he had only needed to be mobbed once by a swirl of white and grey before he learned the coast was dominated by gulls for a reason.
They were huge fucking bullies. Louis was a bully too, but when it came to throwing ones weight around, he was seriously disadvantaged.
Louis fluffed up indignantly as a gull floated past him and he fanned out his wings over his clutch of gathered seashells he had collected. He snaked forward on little black legs, his blue pinion feathers widespread and his crested head bristled. The gull gave him one look, decided he didn't have any food, and leisurely fluttered away.
Louis would take any sort of triumph he could get. He bobbed his head and croaked loudly after the gull's 'retreating' form, his deep baritone braying in the same fashion of a burro he had once overheard. Like him, the sound did not belong on the beach, and he hopped proudly around his cache of shells in excited circles.
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