Magg had watched it strike and kill the duck, blood slicking off its brown and cream feathers as the beast chomped and severed. She wasn't sure what to think of it, and watched fascinatedly as though some great meaning would soon come to be revealed to her. Why was the hardbacked fish eating a bird, wasn't it meant to work the other way around? Why hadn't the waterfowl simply flown off? Why did it now leave the mangled carcass with only a few bites taken out of it?
She moved cautiously closer, nose twitching to catch the many scents that filled the air. Did it taste bad? The snapper stomped its little dinosaur feet overtop the beach toward her, but didn't seem to care much for the food it was leaving behind.
"Bad," Magg told it, circling the turtle in return. They matched each other pace for pace, the snapper steely determined but not rushed. It felt confident it would get the pup's tiny bones betwixt its iron jaws soon enough.
"Bad waster!"