"Pretty prancing bunnies bouncing on the beach!" He giggled happily as he watched the struggling creatures from his hiding place among the trees. Why where they running? Why, why, when the sharky barky was so hungry it GREW FEET to get a bite? A nibbly, bity, tasty munchy crunchy! If he'd had a tongue he might have been eager for a lick himself, a little piece of the juggling meat, a sip a drop a taste just to wet the throat.... alas, he had none of that either. But he could recall the taste, oh yes. Salty it was, like the sea. And so very juicy, if perhaps a little tough to chew. Wonder, wonder, if oozing, bleeding, steaming flesh was as delightful as it had been back in the days?
He still had teeth. Delightfully intact and well tended with neither holes nor caries. Better suited for leaf and grass of course but what was life without a challenge!?
But what was this? A little birdy came swooping down from the swirling, twisting, glowing, gleaming void of blue and began clawing at the shark. The courage, the strength! Oh but what a waste, to find such thrilling chaos and not participate in person.
So he went. Not sneakily, not crawling along the edge of the dripping forest where the sand ended and the steep mountainside began. Not whispering like a shadow from tree to tree, no, what fun would there be in that?
He came bursting instead, shrieking in mad glee with the massive wing bones cutting the air like scorpion tails. Leaves fell, sand cascaded into the air, and in a clatter of bone and teeth and rock and twig he rushed at the first bunny, the fish-wife who belonged more in the sea herself than on dry land.
"NO NONONONONONONONONONO NOOOOOO DON'T RUN AWAY" he cackled shrilly, grinning (like he always did) as he made a swipe with the clawed wings towards the fish-wife and the horned bunny, the gray jackalope who tried to get to safety. "Don't you see, look how happy he is to see you, all smiling and grinning and biting and running!? Can't let him go hungry, can we!"
He made to block their path, fixating the blue orbs upon the little bunnies to make them stop, stare, freeze and pee themselves in terror at the sight of him (like they always did). The shadows swirled faster and faster within the bony ribcage, threatening to spill out in his excitement. Oh, let them protest, object, scream and run and curse his name as they drew their last, rattling breaths...
They were so lovely when they screamed.
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