The last eagle perched on a sign, watching the town. Food was scarce and the humans stayed inside. Scraps were hard to come by. She had no eaglettes to feed, but the hunger was her own and deep. Her eyes followed something crawling in the dirt below.
Tiny, but human-shaped, it creeped forward toward the base of her perch. She could see the dust and blood matted on the back of its skull. It would be a most satisfying meal.
As she dropped, it rolled over, meeting her descent with rows of sharpened teeth and a deepness of its own.