Obviously, I hadn’t thought this out very well.
Did you think we’d be handing out dog biscuits? Orange slices? Lollipops?
The falconer slipped something squidgy between my gloved fingers.
It was a quail head.
A baby quail head.
Already I felt the air moving so I braced for the hawk.
how can i weep?
enjoy your dinner
“I am the hawk and there’s blood on my feathers, but time is still turning – they soon will be dry.”