Built to Burn

The creature's response somehow managed to confuse Zephyr even further. Fur? Mice had fur, voles had fur, everything he ate had what was called 'fur' - but this man was too big to eat, and too powerful even for the harpy eagle who'd dueled him to eat. He was intelligent enough for speech, too, which he was told prey animals were too stupid to talk. If this beast was a predator, where were his feathers. Curiosity compelled Zeph closer as he was bid, peeking his beak, head, neck, and then shoulders from beneath the bed (in that order, slowly) to carefully consider the giant before him.. though he was careful to skirt past the very dangerous and beak-filled smile.

"My name is Zephyrus." He offered, watching the wolf's maw as he spoke and imagining how each individual sharp beak might open up to eat something. "My nest is in there -" With one stubby wing he gestured across the room to the dusty fireplace, gaze roaming over the feathers and carnage until they landed upon the half-severed raptor. His eyes grew wide, his beak clacking shut audibly. Death was something he'd seen before, his mother-owl had shown him the insides of many a creature but never had she managed to cut one in half! Flipping his head back swiftly to the beast, his beak tentatively opened once more. "- ... Sir." Whatever this creature was capable of, it was quite clearly well beyond Zephyr's wildest imagination. Thankfully, the sight of the slain eagle was jarring enough that the chick did not look closer to see the much-less-noticeable cluster of feathers that once was the barn owl.

"Zephyr"