Wapun Meadow bébé ils ne veulent pas de toi

there was so much to see these days. merrick was tireless, patrolling with a never-ending stream of manic stamina summoned somewhere from within.
if he slept it was in fitful snatches in the hours just before dawn, opening his eye when sunlight filtered through the lightening sky.
today his eye was upon a dark shape moving across a territory merrick had long decided was the property of he and his. 
rust nape flared to ruddy bristles; merrick the carrionbird loped aggressively toward the stranger, a rangy gait that implied he was completely in control of the situation, and any hint of suspicious acting would get the fucker slaughtered.