(no subject)

[horseblanket.livejournal.com]

There is a vulture in the bar. Sitting on a perch that is an empty armchair, he really looks rather hangdogish.

This is Rodrigo, and he is in fact a vulture suffering from depression. It may be the fault of his self-chosen owner, Sheila, who is not in the best mood either ...

... she'd also be the one near the chair asleep. But Rodrigo isn't entirely worrying about her right now, he's worrying about himself.

Comments

[creator_raven]

There is a Raven, near the vulture.

"Are you all right, sir?" Vulture sounds a bit strange, coming from a Raven.

[horseblanket.livejournal.com]

Rodrigo tries not to be surprised by this.

<< All right? Maybe. I just know that more people are going to die soon. And I hate it that my owner likes people and then they die. And then I eat them. It's a tough life. >>

He should've been born an herbivore. He knows it.

[creator_raven]

Raven cocks his head.

"People always die. It's better to eat them than to let them rot."

[horseblanket.livejournal.com]

<< Must they be important-to-her people? >>

Cocking his head in the opposite direction, though, Rodrigo realizes Raven does have a point.

<< They never taste bad, though, and ... maybe good people taste better than bad people. Or something. >>

[creator_raven]

"It is a thought. And it is all people, unfortunately."

"Perhaps it will go better for her, here."

[horseblanket.livejournal.com]

<< She feels safer. But she's still dead. And I'm still not, but she isn't a body, so I don't need to eat her. But nobody's safer and this is a frightening prospect. >>

If Sheila knew her pet were having a heart-to-heart with a friend, she'd probably smack him, but Rodrigo has no qualms.