Black Wing

Wendigo wove through the plateau with wide, hungry eyes. Every which way he looked there sat, hopped or flew the most beautiful birds. He coveted them all. They would make the most lavish, most beautiful something. What exactly he didn't know yet, but he wanted a boa or a coat or heck, a feather duster made out of those magnificent feathers.

He ran at one of them suddenly and was delighted when the bird stood its ground and just fixed him with cold, glowing eyes. In fact, he was so surprised he slid to a halt with a giddy cackle. "Oh ho!" Wendigo fell into a play bow and then pounced from side to side tauntingly. "Come on, bring it, Feathers! I love an accessory with some fight!" That the birds, which were slowly creeping closer, might be a danger was lost on him. He only had eyes for their feathers and- the red boy behind him suddenly caught his attention. To Ifrit who also appeared to have a bird problem, he said, "Perfect day to pluck some feathers, eh?"

"Speech"