Wapun Meadow I sip the liquor but it's much too harsh,

the WORST thing was that buzzard would enjoy being yanked face down into the mud. there was no river nearby to dunk them in, and certainly he would not let his tongue anywhere near their coat, not even to fuck with them. the last thing he needed was his mouth hosting a hive of whatever horrible parasites were crawling through their fur.

so, unfortunately, condor was reduced to scowling as they swept their tongue over their shoulder a few more times. ugh. why did they even have siblings? "perhaps i'll join you. we can let buzzard play in the mud they so enjoy."

as much as he was eager to verbally drag them through the dirt, buzzard's skull had the same thickness as a rock; the best you could hope to do was bounce off with a sore shoulder. no, that wouldn't do. he'd have to wait. the best revenge came when your enemy no longer expected it, and condor committed to memory the necessity of throwing buzzard in the first body of running water he found.

he let out a slow, pointed breath, nose wrinkling, and turned to vulture. "darling, i'm going to find somewhere to bathe. you're welcome to come." shaking mud from one leg, condor turned to march away, moving with as much dignity as he could muster despite being covered in a layer of filthy mud. "i suppose i need not say anything to buzzard, since they would dissolve if they so much as touched a paw to running water."