________________

Oh no. No, no, no. What was that? Who was that? Was it-- no, it wasn't breathing. What was wrong with it? Carefully, the little parrot nudged the dead mouse sadly, whimpering before he looked back at Dark.

Why had he done this? He had thought that the owl was a nice person, but the parrot was back to shaking and on the verge of tears. Somehow, he managed to stammer. "D... de.. dead?"

Dark froze.

...Dead?

A sudden realization ran through him. He'd always chased down the things that moved, the sounds of skittering, jumped on them, squeezed them. Then they stopped moving, stopped skittering, and he ate them. They tasted good. Warm. They had stones, like he did--he'd known that.

But--dead?

He'd thought they were warm, like... moving berries, the way plants shifted in the wind. Their bites, the nicks of thorns, that sort of thing.

...Dead?

"D-... Dead?" he croaked, then looked down. "I eat those," he said quietly.

Very gently, he pushed it away, out of sight behind him, staring blindly at it for a moment before turning his head back toward Kyrak. "What do you eat?" he asked, hesitant.

________________

@Kyrak