Whisper Marsh Duck, Duck, Goose

He had decided to sleep on the southern edge of the marsh although his rest had been short live. With a crack of shattering thin ice and a dull slap of something hitting the water his head had risen before the familiar 'houwk' met his ears. Mismatched eyes fell on the bird, its grey body and plack neck - longer than that of a duck marked it as a goose. Redjusting his shoulders he lay his head back down and closed his eyes only to startled by another 'twack, crack, splash, "houwk"' and then another.

Raising his head once again and turning his eyes to the sky he spotted the flock, clearly on their way to wherever it was they migrated. Perhaps one day he would follow them and find out? But for now the chorus was crescendoing into a cacophony of goose song, piercing his ears and chasing away any chance of more sleep. He observed them from behind his curtain of frozen rushes and reeds, coral tongue coming out to pass over hungry lips.

Perhaps if he was quicker than they could take off he would snag one. With every bird that landed they inched closer and closer to his hiding spot.

It was only a matter of time.

(This post was last modified: Dec 05, 2015, 01:01 AM by Ryvet.)