- Nov 14, 2022
- 260
- 54
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The freshkill pile was cleaned often, checked for prey that might be spoiling in the sun or anything out of place that shouldn't be there at all; often delivered by kits attemtping to be helpful and contribute before their time. Today was no different, though it was slim pickings as he approached and Magpiepaw found himself staring at an empty pile with only a single lone bird lay upon its center. Hunting patrols were out, would return in time to fill it, but for now it was devoid of anything than this single avian. His blue-violet eyes are wide as he peers down upon the frail and broken thing, a dark bird with iridescent feathers that shimmered like the midnight sky and a pristine white throat exposed to the heavens. A magpie.
He had seen his namesake bird several times before but never once like this, many birds had died to fill their bellies but the lone magpie at his paws was not common and if it had been placed upon the pile prior it had been at times when he was unaware. To see it here now as the only thing resting limply across the ground on its back made his fur prickle with unease.
The magpie were active birds, he watched them often flit from tree to tree in rapid succession and dive for any shimmering bits upon the marshland ground; escaping with baubels and trinkets alike from the carrionplace they often clamored about.
The apprentice swallows the lump he did not realize had formed in his throat at the first sight of the bird, takes a step back with a quiet inhale of breath that escaped in a murmur of unease.
"I'm going to die soon." He states simply, matter-of-fact, how dreadful. What an awful thing to find out on such a lovely morning.