NOT ENOUGH SHEEP (by Hasun)

The sun had just hit its peak, and a young Atavian villager was out running some 
errands. She had just reached the end of Genji Street when she looked up, and 
noticed a dark figure struggling to clamber up the cliff face. The poor thing 
was clearly exhausted, so she called out, "Are you alright there? Can I be of 
any help?"

Hard work, tough climbing. Why are the cliffs so high? FRESH MEAT! Come birdling 
come, I taste you now!

The feral beast leapt towards the hapless villager. A guttural howl flowed from 
its gaping maw as it bore down on her. The frightened villager just stood there, 
frozen in shock as the creature bit down heavily, sharp teeth cracking through bones, 
razor talons ripping her supple flesh to shreds. The blood from her jugular arced 
high into the air as an Atavian man, just stepping outside for the day witnessed 
the horror and bloodshed.

Maul, gnash, grind and crunch, this birdie makes a lovely lunch. Hey! Quiet flappy! 
I like silence!

"Help! Help! This man has gone mad!" A swift sweep of a broad paw and his entire 
throat was ripped out too slowly however, the village heard his cries. Warriors 
and angry villagers hurtled from the skies, bearing down upon the foul beast, 
prepared to end its despicable existence.

Rip and tear, smash and grab. Oooooer! More, more, come birdies come, I'll eat you all!

Flapping her wings mightily, a beautiful Atavian woman flew above the mountains 
heading towards the home of so many of her kin. She stopped suddenly, aghast at 
the slaughter below. The gutters ran red with the blood of her kinsfolk. Torn 
bloodied limbs littered the streets bodies lay twisted in heaps, expressions of 
agony and torment locked on their now immobile faces. She threw her head back and 
loosed an agonising scream. What was that? Her sharp eyes locked upon a figure 
hunched over a mangled, bloody torso.

More meat? Huh? No! No! No!

Hasun looked up, blood still dripping from his chin, as an imposing figure 
stalked towards him. Bradhadaira's implacable gaze locked on Hasun as she slowly 
advanced. "Bra... Bradhadaira" he spluttered, "I can explain!" The burning anger 
in her eyes drilled into him. Slowly and methodically Bradhadaira drew out a 
bucket full of warm, soapy water. Hasun quivered with fear as his precious grime 
came under threat. "I was just, uh, visiting, and They attacked!"

Not again! No no no! Where? Anywhere! Go! Go! Go!

As Bradhadaira's arm cocked back ready for the throw, Hasun bolted for 
the edge of the cliff. His muscles finely coiled he sprang into the air, 
plummeting headfirst into the abyss. KER-SNAK! The bones in his arm twisted 
and broke, shattering into tiny fragments. Hasun scooped himself up and 
cradling his shattered limb loped off into the mountains, risking a potentially 
fatal fall to avoid Bradhadaira's bucket, and the sting of her wrath.