The same little crow sat perched and watched me work again. Its eyes were more curious than anything this time. And it brought friends.
Probably the same little bastards that shit on the truck.
This time it rained all day and thundered horribly. If the weather kept up, I wouldn't get much hunting done this time around.
I couldn't remember a time I hadn't gotten done what I needed to get done. It spooked me a little to think what would happen. Another time, another place. Back in the 1800's people were so plentiful...
Interrupting my hazy thoughts, an icy droplet of water splashed right into my eye. I growled. Turned upwards. Another drop fell down my throat.
You'd think if I accidentally swallowed a little rainwater I'd turn into "Aquaman" or something, right? Or maybe I'd just melt, or die. Nope. The human body is 80 water. I don't need it, but it ain't gonna kill me either. "Sorry kiddies, I don't go that easily."
I shifted my weight on the wooden stool, fluttered my wings slightly, and continued to sit sewing in the dark,
in the nude,
in the rain,
in the ichor and blackness of my own thoughts.