Carrion bird could sense when death walked near. Like dark shadows they circled overhead, cawing in their raucous tongue, calling their brothers and sisters to the feast. Many a bird heard their morbid summons but knew better than to approach uninvited. The victim would depart this world soon enough they knew. The Corvids could smell his dying breath; they could see his feeble movements. The faltering rise and fall of his chest grew shallow, and the bolder of the Murder drew closer, settling amongst the branches waiting for death’s final victory. The unconscious form twitched and grew still, and the corvids shuffled closer. One, bolder and larger than the rest croaked, he would take the first pecks, lest a lesser bird suffer his wrath. The others squawked and grumbled but did not argue the simple truth. He would prove a formidable foe, they would wait, impatiently. The corvid, a large oily crow hopped forward, jabbing experimentally at a green foot, his razor beak leaving a line of crimson against the emerald flesh. No reaction emanated from the dying, so he strove nearer, working his way around until the creature’s delicious eyes, concealed behind only thin eyelids were in pecking range. Crowing victoriously the bold corvid drew back his head to feast and struck.

	A grey and white thunderbolt ploughed into his back! Driving webbed talons tore deep into his brilliant black plumage, and an orange beak snapped at his head. Feathers flew in every direction as the two birds tussled, rolling across the loam covered floor, screeching, and calling terrible battle cries. They were evenly matched it would seem. Roughly equal in size and strength and equipped with sharpened beaks. The crow thought himself a ferocious warrior, and did not back down easily, tearing into this meddling gull who would intrude upon his meal. The other crows croaked their displeasure from the sidelines, making a thunderous racket but they dared not intervene. First pickings were sacred amongst their kind, this was their boss’s fight alone.

	The bloodied duelists broke combat, settling only a few feet apart, circling and sizing the other up. Arguably the gull had taken the worst of the bout, despite her ambush. Puffing out his feathers the corvid near doubled in size, sending out squawks to prove his meanness, impressing upon this outsider she should not have dared disturb his dinner. His display of bravado would have cowed any lesser bird, but gull did not seem shaken, indeed it seemed she would remain unto the bitter end. Who was this insane fowl? So far from her coastline and piers where she belonged, and deep inside the city proper. Was she this desperate for food that she would die fighting for it? As good a meal as the dying creature promised was it worth such a brutal sacrifice? He could kill her, but at what cost to himself? The gull did not share his own doubts. Raising her wings, she launched herself forward, the mournful cry echoing throughout the tree’s interior.

	Dead things were common in the forest, the crow decided. One could find plenty of slugs, or insects should one become desperate. No prize, no matter how delicious would be worth this. Turning tail, he fled, flapping away, cawing angrily before the maddened gull could engage. Circling once the gull landed astride the green creature’s chest, glancing this way and that to see if any others amongst the Murder dare test their mettle. None stepped forth. Seeing the strongest among them be driven off impressed a great deal, and they settled down discontentedly to allow this formidable stranger first rights at the feast.

	Flower shuffled her feet atop Rainbow’s chest. His heart still beat, she could feel it. The rablin lived, but barely. He was dying, something lurked beneath his skin slowly killing him. His ragged breaths grew few, and far between. She could sense the Murder shuffling ever closer, nearly two dozen hungry crows growing more exasperated by the second. Why hadn’t supper begun?

	She screeched as the bolder amongst them hopped within pecking range. They croaked back, twisting their beady intelligent eyes right to left, trying to understand. Wondering if it would be worth fighting for. Time was of the essence. Hopping down she pecked gently at his hands, eliciting no response. She tugged as his toes, and pecked at his nose, and even called into his ear, each attempt showing less reaction than the last. One corvid, braver or hungrier than the others inched nearer, giving his own experimental jab at Rainbow’s face. Flower retorted in kind, grasping the crow’s head by the feathers, and tearing them free with a powerful tug. The crow flailed, screaming bloody murder as his black crown splattered scarlet droplets. That was when the corvids decided then that they had had enough. As one mass of black wings they descended upon the lone gull, determined to kill this intruder and feast. They swirled about, tearing at Flower, as the helpless gull battled fiercely, giving as good as she got. But there were to many, and these crows were not going to just drive her away, they were out for death. The battle exploded into the air, and across the table scattering this and that until a small chest, empty and open was sent clattering to the floor, shattering on impact.

	Rainbow’s purple eyes snapped open. He writhed in agony; his body engulfed in a swarm of angry birds. He tried swatting them away, but each contact his hands made sent spine splintering pangs throughout his entire body until he screamed for all he was worth, the birds directly above him were forgotten as black residue leak from every pore on his body. Even the crows, accustom to the scents of rotting flesh blanched at this offending stench and sight. They scattered to the four winds confused and furious at a lost opportunity.

	Rainbow began to hyperventilate, his muscles spasming uncontrollably as the last of the black curse exited his body. Black ooze was replaced by putrid sweat and the agonizing pain faded into a dull ache. He whimpered trying to remember what had occurred. Everything was a haze. Memories of children, oceans, forests, and monsters swirled through his head, clouding his thoughts. He dared not move unless the pain return.

	A soft bird’s call emanated from his left, and Rainbow turned his head ever so slightly, feeling the liquid murk squish beneath his head. His entire being resisted the movement, but he managed until his eyes could lock upon the flyer who had made the noise. His violet gaze came to rest on a battered seagull. It was Flower he realized, after a moment. She lay awkwardly on her side missing a great deal of feathers and looking considerably worse for wear. Not a far cry from himself in fact. One wing looked bent out of shape, and it seemed she bore a score or more wounds. How she had found him, or why she was in such a state was beyond Rainbow’s mental faculties at that moment. Licking his dry lips Rainbow stretched out a hand, his entire arm shaking from the effort. “F-f-find… Help…” He managed to say, even as the rational part of his brain still functioning told him the bird would not understand. “P-please…”

	Whether his words made sense or not, the gull struggled gamely to her feet. Giving Rainbow one last seabird’s cry she limped into the air, flapping raggedly away from the suffering rablin. Searching the city for her lost friends would be arduous, especially with a sprained wing and numerous injuries, but Flower was not the kind of bird to give up easily. Of that at least, she was certain.