☣Disturbia☣
06-03-2013, 08:25 PM
![[Image: ezekiel_by_wolftaske-d60lag9.png]](http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/095/c/f/ezekiel_by_wolftaske-d60lag9.png)
THE TOE BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE
HEEL BONE
screams. there were screams. if there was one thing that life had told ezekiel, though, it was that screams meant something dying, and that lead down a chain of associations with security, decay, bones, and most of all, food.
the bearded vulture was a large, ravenous creature with a bottomless pit for a stomach. standing at nearly four feet tall at the crest and sporting a wingspan of a little over nine feet, it was no wonder that he was constantly on the search for death and despair, for these things led to life-giving sustenance. for any sort of vulture, death always brought life, and that was one thing they knew for sure about their existence.
on this particular day he knew not of who the screams belonged to, but it was endlessly easy to pinpoint the location of its vocalist. cool down-drafts ruffled his feathers momentarily before he beat his wings to keep himself in the air. it was a breeze to spot the black coat among the cool water of the lake, and without hesitation he descended with a raspy, echoing cackle, upon one of the rare, scraggly trees nearby. the branch dipped under his weight and he was set momentarily off-balance, but righted himself with a shift of his claws toward the trunk and some batting of his avian appendages. in the bouts of terror the young black wolf omitted, something along the lines of 'get it off!' rang in his ears. he clacked his beak with immense irritation, both at the pain in his audits and at the fact that his prey wasn't quite dead yet despite the fact it was covered in blood. he sent his crackling voice projecting over the water to the splashing pup.
"shut up, shut up,
you stupid little thing!
before i bat you down
with a well-placed wing!
"what did you think
would come out of the hare?
certainly not water--
life isn't that fair!
"what now, what now?
can you even swim?
ever thought of drowning--
or is that too but a whim?"
he watched as the pup stranded itself further into the lake, and with a troubled sigh he thought of how irritating it'd be to have to get his precious feathers wet in a swim to retrieve his sunken prey. he groaned irritably and with a screech burst upwards from his branch, wings pumping, and then swooped down toward the water, gliding toward the young wolf with a flap or two. the pseudo-savior would make a move to grip the thing with its massive claws once it neared, and if successful would make its way back to the shore, dropping the child from about a foot from the ground and then would return to his perch, eyeing the animal with contempt and hunger.
the bearded vulture was a large, ravenous creature with a bottomless pit for a stomach. standing at nearly four feet tall at the crest and sporting a wingspan of a little over nine feet, it was no wonder that he was constantly on the search for death and despair, for these things led to life-giving sustenance. for any sort of vulture, death always brought life, and that was one thing they knew for sure about their existence.
on this particular day he knew not of who the screams belonged to, but it was endlessly easy to pinpoint the location of its vocalist. cool down-drafts ruffled his feathers momentarily before he beat his wings to keep himself in the air. it was a breeze to spot the black coat among the cool water of the lake, and without hesitation he descended with a raspy, echoing cackle, upon one of the rare, scraggly trees nearby. the branch dipped under his weight and he was set momentarily off-balance, but righted himself with a shift of his claws toward the trunk and some batting of his avian appendages. in the bouts of terror the young black wolf omitted, something along the lines of 'get it off!' rang in his ears. he clacked his beak with immense irritation, both at the pain in his audits and at the fact that his prey wasn't quite dead yet despite the fact it was covered in blood. he sent his crackling voice projecting over the water to the splashing pup.
"shut up, shut up,
you stupid little thing!
before i bat you down
with a well-placed wing!
"what did you think
would come out of the hare?
certainly not water--
life isn't that fair!
"what now, what now?
can you even swim?
ever thought of drowning--
or is that too but a whim?"
he watched as the pup stranded itself further into the lake, and with a troubled sigh he thought of how irritating it'd be to have to get his precious feathers wet in a swim to retrieve his sunken prey. he groaned irritably and with a screech burst upwards from his branch, wings pumping, and then swooped down toward the water, gliding toward the young wolf with a flap or two. the pseudo-savior would make a move to grip the thing with its massive claws once it neared, and if successful would make its way back to the shore, dropping the child from about a foot from the ground and then would return to his perch, eyeing the animal with contempt and hunger.