Killing Is Pretty Too [Fox]

[Bre]

There's so many wars we fought . . .

M'rion wasn't looking particularly attractive at that moment, one late, winter day. Though significantly larger, Romaph still couldn't catch her own food, constantly molting but not yet ready to fly. Because of this, M'rion was cutting up a carcass to feed the green. The hungry simourv had suggested that she just tear it up herself, but her rider had decided she didn't want her bonded choking on bones. It was a tiresome chore, but it was worth it for the sake of Romaph. At first, the blood had only gotten on her hands as she sliced off strips to dump into a bucket, but then she had smeared some on her face. It was really taking longer than it should have, but she couldn't figure out how to just get it done. It was going as fast as it was going. The feeling of flesh beneath her fingers didn't bother her, but it was far from her mind. It was the wrong type of flesh.

Romaph had found a way to entertain herself in the meantime. She was chasing cows around their pen. It was in an entirely loving manner. She wasn't the most ferocious or vicious of beasts; she wasn't out to scare them. In her mind, she was quite convinced that she could get them to play with her. Come on, come on! Can't you see? Why don't you come play with me? Romaph sang out, trying to get them to listen. At this point, they seemed to be in rather a blind panic, stampeding all over the place. Before then, she might have been in danger, but she was no longer small enough to be crushed by a cow. Besides that, they were just so slow! She was spry and light, lunging into the air and landing within feet of them. Their bellows were nice and loud, plenty of noise to preoccupy her. M'rion shot her a few fond glances as she worked, having no heart to stop her simourv's playing.

. . . there's so many things we're not.

[Fox]

High above the canyon bed, Seronaph circled lazily in the chilly winter sky. The day had been uneventful, with His remaining glued to his desk for several hours working on lesson plans and letters and generally being an absolute bore. Seronaph had not been amused. In fact, the red had rather toyed with the idea of picking K’ean up by the collar and hauling him off to do something, as an alternative to work, work and more work. Thankfully, when the simourv had issued his twenty-fifth or so complaint, K’ean had caved in with a stretch, a mildly irritated sigh, and the words, ”I could use a break anyway.”

So they’d gone flying. It wasn’t anything strenuous, since neither party had bothered with riding straps. Just a loop out over the forest and back, really. But it had still been enough for Seronaph to work up a fairly decent appetite. His stomach gave a loud grumble, to which K’ean snorted in amusement, and then the redpair were spiralling down, down, downwards in the direction of the feeding pens. Of course, it wasn’t very long before it was clear that they would have company while Seronaph ate; a half-grown simourv chick frolicked amongst the terrified cattle, whilst the slender form of a girl seemed to be occupied with the glorious task of butchering. With a short screech, the large red landed solidly on the back of one of said cattle, his talons ripping into flesh as he made short work of the struggling creature. It wasn’t long before K’ean was sliding off of his partner’s back as the red ate, oblivious to all but his own hunger, at least until the edge of it was taken off. With a crooked smile and a raised hand, he greeted the wingletpair, the human half of which had a rather gruesome smear of blood across her face. ”Hello there! Having fun with that?” With an amused glance, he tapped his face lightly with a finger to indicate M'rion's mussed state.