Somewhere in scripture it says God's a Mother Hen.
Well, I ran into Her today, and let me just say that
even though She may be quite a Mother,
She ain't no hen.
Perched on the branch, She quickly raised her head at my approach and turned a sharp, black eye. She must've deemed me safe, trivial - or both - because just as suddenly She dropped her head and sank a hooked bill, with a dull phut, into the pile of red flesh gripped between Her talons.
She spit out tufts of unsatisfying fur, and it softly fell to the ground. She tore at the silvery lining of the creature's gut until She stood tall once again with a bloody noodle in her mouth. She gulped it down. Nothing stained Her proud, white breast as She gorged to fullness on this small life, making it Her own.
She was stunning.
She was terrifying.
And I was not inclined to cozy-up under Her wing.
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