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11-30-2012, 04:16 PM
Patience. The bird didn’t stop moving as quickly as Midas had predicted. A younger man might have found the whole situation slightly humorous; seeing as a headless body was still wiggling on its own accord. Steadily, and with silent respect—he waited until all was quiet again, when even quivering finally paused he bent to receive a mouthful of feathers before choosing to pick the creature up by feet and talons instead. Dangling the weight from mouth Midas repeated steps 3 – 4 and returned to his egg. A tired wheeze came out, orbs turned to gaze at the ivory toned shell. Softening and somehow brightening his resolve, body turned with intent of hunting again—he had quite a treasure trove of food for the youngling. But heart was telling him that something else was needed to seal the feast. A shifting sound in the bush took mind away from idle thinking; flashing red pelt caught his eye. A fox. Turning sharply Midas allowed magic to pool again, this time not taking long to form the required amount of granules; instead trusting that his instincts would understand the desire. Taking hasty aim he let the small bullet like balls fly again, narrowed this time instead of scattered. The smell of death was causing curious predators to come near. |
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