Duck Lake The Darkwing Duck Tales

The thought of duck brought saliva to the edges of his leathery lips, as a carnivore or a lean mean killing machine, food was in its essence important to remain alive. Upon this wintery day his nose quivered and small, nearly inaudible growls slipped from his muzzle as he stalked the nearby flock of duck. His silvery eyes stared at the distance with a predatory instinct. It was like a free banquet of food. The fact that all the ducks that remained here during the cold months were still alive ..was only a technical detail. He would change that.

Within the distance his interest got preoccupied by a small, dark duckling that was chased off by bigger ducks. An easy prey most likely. The wee duckling was already fatigued by the continuous bullying and now it was no longer among his peers. Suddenly, the big bad wolf – aka Jormag – felt suddenly very sorry for the duckling that was kicked out by the others. But he wasn’t sure if the feeling was caused by a newfound sympathy for the duckling and a resemblance with his own past or the fact that the duckling was a meal too easy to pass on.