Noctisardor Bypass storms in africa

She shook the bird until it died, then shook it some more. She would’ve gone on shaking it for long moments had she not felt a sudden tension. Druid blinked and froze, only now noticing Witch latched onto the falcon’s other wing. The gray pup felt a growl bubbling in her throat, though it wasn’t possessive. It was a noise of mutual triumph, with Druid all too happy to share her kill and subsequent spoils with her sister.

Eventually, she released her hold on the bird’s limp body, spitting out a few stray bits of downy that clung to her tongue. Druid then licked her lips as she peered down at the raptor, its glassy, purblind eyes staring up at the rainy sky. She even saw a raindrop hit that translucent orb before slipping away into wet, bloody feathers.

Her blue eyes sought Sequoia, inquisitive. The pups still drank mostly milk, supplemented with chewed meat. This kill was unprecedented and though the tangy odor of blood made her mouth fill with saliva, Druid wasn’t actually entirely sure what to do with it. Her gaze bounced between mother and sister, hoping for some guidance.