An early nightfall swept over the land, followed by a noticeable drop in temperature. The snow covering the soil grew stiffer as a whole line of predators were coming out to chase the ones foolish enough not to seek shelter during the darkness. The stars and moon would soon follow to hang in the sky and give dim illumination if the sea of clouds did not intervene. Two Pokémon in particular were brainstorming a plan to get them a highly sought after, highly nutritious meal for themselves. One was preparing by practicing climbing trees, while the other was sitting quietly and playing out all possible scenarios in its mind. Both of them had an appetizer from a young, stray Furret that wandered into the wrong Pokémon enclave. It served as a quick snack and appetizer for the cunning Pokémon pair. The egg trip would undoubtedly be worth the effort to them.

A Sneasel hanging onto a sturdy tree pried itself off from the back, twisted itself around, and landed on both feet from a short drop, concluding her practice. Another Weavile was sitting down, watching and grading her on the performance.

"She learns fast… that's nice."

"Did you say something?" asked the female Pokémon who was eager to get going.

"Errr… nothing. Are you ready to go get some eggs?"

The Sneasel made a complimentary purr. She was brimming with energy from having a quick Furret snack and wanted to use it to get herself and the kind Weavile a proper meal. After the snack, the scout gave a narrow smirk to the beta and led the way to the Pidgeot's nest. She giggled, scarcely able to contain her excitement. And away they went, putting their superior night vision to a befitting use. With their sharp senses, especially their eyes, few could manage to hide from the Sharp Claw Pokémon at night.

The two of them trekked through the woods for a lengthy amount of time away from the cave the others dwelled. The scout stopped every so often to carve landmarks into trees and the occasional frost-glazed stone, so they can remember the trail they would have to take again.

"From what I've seen, Pidgeot are protective of their nests," explained the Weavile. "One parent stays behind as the other one goes out to bring it food. They alternate every so often. They hate the direct cold, so I have no clue why one would raise its family here. Heh, lucky us, right?"

"Oh, of course!" exclaimed the Sneasel, "That bird won't know what hit it! There's gonna be so many eggs for us to enjoy, I know it!"

She abruptly made the scout stop by tugging on his shoulder, switching topics to a more important one,

"What is the plan this time? Same as with that Deerling?"

The scout turned his head and gave a smug grunt.

"You got it. This time will be a little different since I will have to climb up. Give it an uproar it can't ignore." He crouched and etched a rough circle near the roots of a great birch tree to leave yet another mark they will have to trace back. To make things easier, he dug an elongated cavity into the snow with a cross symbol underneath it.

"It shouldn't snow tonight, so this one should last at least the night."

"You and your symbols," teased the Sneasel, "You should save that for when we carve up that Pidgeot."

He didn't give a response. "How much longer now? It shouldn't be too far, right? What if we get ambushed?" followed up the Sneasel.

"Well, if worse comes to worse, we can always just wait them out on top of the branches. Not that there will be any others looking for dinner. Just follow my moves and we will all right."

Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into sizeable fractions of hours, as the two Sharp Claw Pokémon continued an evening walk that mimicked the midnight through the eerie, dead silent wilderness. To her, it all looked the snow. Snow and dead trees, ice and living trees, and an occasional rock, dip in elevation, or clearing of varying size. She imagined what it must be like being a nomad, living entirely alone and endlessly wandering throughout the maze. How rough it must be to rely only on yourself when the entire world must be against you at the same time!

The footprints of enigmatic Pokémon started to fade out the further they roamed, indicating that they were heading into parts hardly traveled. Additionally, some of the trees appeared much taller with numerous branches sprouting off to create diminishing forks and bridges, almost like a grotesque Spinarak web. However, they were much more spread out than they were before. In the place of footprints, there was a half-buried feather lying idly in on the ground, like a forgotten doll. And then they passed another one a few seconds later. Then it occurred to her; the Pidgeot must have chosen to build its nest somewhere around here, where other Pokémon hardly roam!

It was quiet, hidden, and the trees provided good locations to build a home with thick branches to shield from snow above. All with ample room to stretch wings and fly around. This area was perfect for any flying Pokémon!

"We're close," whispered the Weavile, "stay low and don't make much noise. Keep your eyes open at the canopy."

The two cut their pace in half and painstakingly scanned the upper environment for anything that would resemble a Pidgeot nest. They went about this for only a minute, when the Sneasel spotted something strange that warranted attention and investigation.

"There!" she whispered to the Weavile with a pointed claw, "by that oak!"

A cream-colored blob shuffled in place lightly to get comfortable on top of a clump of brown and gray twigs perched upon a tightly knit web of branches on a large oak tree. It sported an admirable, wavy crest of daffodil hair sandwiched between two tangerine colored crests, in addition to its onyx streaks around the eyes. On its back was a flaxen coat of feathers, made to be more waterproof than its breast. It breathed heavily and watched the ground below for anything suspicious, waiting for its partner to return to switch roles in relief. Occasionally it stood up just enough to peer down on the sand-colored eggs that were its unborn children.

It was a mother Pidgeot, and she did not look happy this night.

The two Sharp Claw Pokémon dashed behind an equally girthy tree to peer and plot their next move. The Weavile squinted and gazed at the perched parent, ducking back behind the tree whenever it dared to look near his direction.

"What do we do?" murmured the Sneasel, feeling worried at the sight of a single but attentive parent. The Weavile did not meet her gaze; too focused on trying to get a read on the bird.

"I did not expect the nest to be guarded. This isn't going to be simple. I'm thinking…"

A moment of silence went by as he came up with a new strategy.

"Do you have any experience with ice attacks?" asked the scout.

"N-No… not really…" answered the Sneasel with a tang of embarrassment.

"Hrnnnng," growled the scout, "That bird could be here all night."

Another minute of strained silence passed by. The runt tried her best to contribute to a possible plan, but all of her suggestions were either inadequate or highly dangerous for the duo, leaving him to do most of the thinking. At last, the scout swallowed and locked eyes with her, with a strikingly stern and concentrated face.

"We may have to fight it head on."

This came as a confusion for the Sneasel.

"Fighting that thing? Really? We can't sneak past it?"

The Weavile gave a sarcastic laugh, "Hah. You think it's possible to creep up a Pidgeot and steal the eggs it is sitting on? May as well try to outstare an Ekans."

"Do we really have to fight it?" whined the Sneasel. She did not have any combat experience with fighting Flying-type Pokémon. And she much preferred to put off said experience later.

"Well," spoke the Weavile as he stood up, "if we're lucky, we will only have to deal with one of them. We have a numbers advantage, plus Pokémon like a Pidgeot do not like the cold that much. A few well-placed Ice Shards should do the trick."

The Sneasel remembered getting blinded by ice during their sparring session.

(Yeah, don't remind me.)

"I'll start climbing it up while you distract it, like the last time we did this. The closer I can get, the better. Be ready to start swiping once I blow ice in its face."

"Start… swiping?"

The Weavile gave an annoyed nod. This was news to the Sneasel, who realized this was the very first time she could fight something for real. Never before did she get the opportunity to directly contribute to a hunt of any sort. She stared at her claws and squeezed them a few times.

"You're one of us, remember. Other Pokémon know us for being vicious and deadly. You have to know how to put those weapons to good use eventually."

She stared blankly, feeling that small fire in her start to inch up from within.

"If nothing else, just remember this no matter where you are. It is you, or them. No in between. And it better be them. We can take on this Pidgeot, what do you think?"

The Sneasel gave an adamant nod with her eyes narrowed a smidgen. It was a serious look like the scout had. One of newly unearthed confidence at the task at hand.

"We'll get those eggs if it is the last thing we will do!" she exclaimed. The Weavile responded with a devious grin at hearing her comply. He quickly packed his mouth with fresh snow and moved into position to take on the Pidgeot.

The Pidgeot continued being on the lookout for any threats as it sat on the eggs it laid. A light snowfall came from the sky, making the bird scowl at the weather. It wondered where its mate had gone, and why they decided to set up shop here instead of flying south to more hospitable climates.

"There's nothing even here! If I so much as even catch of glimpse of him in the spring, I'll give him such a long, sharp talk about this!"

The monotony dissolved when it suddenly spotted the Sneasel runt approach from the side as if it was lost. The Pidgeot kept a fierce, unblinking eye on the small Pokémon who was feigning attention on the nest above as it slowly paced in front of the Pidgeot. If neither of them was going to meet gazes and give each other a stare down, then both would be fine, or so thought the Pidgeot. The roosted parent watched the Sneasel come to a stop and scratch its head. Another Sharp Claw Pokémon was cautiously climbing the tree, trying to minimize the noise. She did notice the Weavile inching closer towards the prized eggs for now.

At last, just as the Pidgeot was losing attention on the Sneasel, the runt looked up and sported a cocky, smug simper on the bird.

"Hey, you!" she called, "What are you doing up there? Your rump too cold?"

The Pidgeot's expression remained as still as stone, now giving the troublemaker her full concentration. The Sneasel didn't like being ignored and put her hands on her hips, shook in place a little, and tried to jeer the bird, anything to keep it focused on her,

"What's the matter? You sure look cold! Why don't you come down so I can help myself to your eggs! Maybe that'll get you to talk."

Again, the Sneasel was meet with dead, but tense, silence. The Pidgeot rose slightly and beat its wings twice, telling the runt to back off through body language. The Sneasel tried to keep the diversion going, but suddenly the Pidgeot made a bizarre, tempered clicking sound that rolled through the air.

"And what do you know of being a parent?" growled the Pidgeot, "you would never understand the hardship that comes with being a lonely mother!"

The Pidgeot gave a third flap and turned its head away from the Sneasel,

"Though it seems my mate may have left me for that Unfezant, I have vowed to make the best of it, by making sure I never leave this perch! I shall not allow my unhatched children to become orphans!"

That stung the Sneasel. She went from being a cocky annoyance to a wide-eyed fool at hearing that word.

"Orphans…?"

Images of the scout's story of her parents being blown away by that mysterious monster and his deafening weapon flashed across her mind. It was bringing her blood to a boil.

Immediately she retaliated with fire in her voice,

"Hey, I'm an orphan, too! At least you had parents to help you out when you were young! I didn't have anybody to look up to or protect me when I was young! Who do you think you are!?"

The Pidgeot snarled in cruel joy at infuriating the Sneasel.

"You're an orphan because your parents clearly never cared about you. That's what happens to dumb creatures like you; nothing but lowly idiots who only knew how to make more of themselves and mess everything up because they can't even control their hormones. They probably thought you were a mistake upon the world and were too ashamed to even bother raising you. So they abandoned you and took their own lives to escape having to raise you. The only problem is that they didn't care enough to take you with them out of this world to repent for your wretched existence, you waste of resources."

The Pidgeot further laughed at the Sneasel, acting haughty from her nest.

"After all, why do you think you never had a proper upbringing, hmm? I could tell the moment I saw you roaming in front of me. And what makes you think I'll dare condemn my children to the same horrid tale as you? Do you really think I am the deadbeat? Not the mingy cowards you think were your own mother and father before they ran off after finding out that-gasp- sometimes it's NOT the right idea to pump out so many ugly and parasitic babies like you? Of course you don't understand, because you're nothing but an ignorant orphan too stubborn to accept the fact you were a mistake and grand waste of everything living around here."

Those words made the Sneasel's blood boil like molten, spewing rock deep under the earth.

The Sneasel was gnawing her bottom lip in rage from hearing the Pidgeot's insults. Hell, even the alphas that bullied her around didn't even bother mentioning her upbringing and mother and father that went away and were never seen again. How dare that Pidgeot bring up the fact she was an orphan, let alone mock her parents' untimely demise. What did it think it was insulting her like that?

She was dying to get her claws on those eggs or embedded that sand-colored plumage and scoop out her internals to study in great detail, whichever came first.

Meanwhile, the Weavile was nearly three-fourths of the way to the Pidgeot nest, feeling violent just from the bird's words as well. He planned on hopping up and giving the Pidgeot a quick stab, preferably in the wings, so the two of them could feast leisurely. That went out the window quickly. The Sneasel changed focus from the parent to her partner climbing up the tree, indicated by a very slight head cock. The Pidgeot saw it, and shot a quick glance in the vague direction the runt was looking at.

The Weavile scout was only a little more than his body height from being at the same level as the parent to get those eggs, who was now staring straight into his soul with superior avian eyes of fury.

She let loose a maddening screech and hopped off the nest to directly attack the invading Weavile with an instinctive Brave Bird. He was startled by the noise and approach, making him haphazardly spit the snow in his mouth into a weak, sloppy Ice Shard attack. It did little more than sting its eyes, forcing it to shut them out of irritation. It still dive-bombed him and slammed straight into his shoulder, knocking him off with a spiral. The Pidgeot made a very dangerous turn in the air, roughly brushing up against the branches of a neighboring tree. It managed to regain control quickly and was now in the air, rightfully pissed off at the Sharp Claw Pokémon trying to steal its eggs.

The female beta gasped at seeing her partner hit the snow with a soft thud. His entire body felt sore and cracked from the combined forces of the Brave Bird and hitting the ground underneath. He flopped his head from side to side in pain, grunting from pain as well with a few light coughs mixed in. The Weavile opened his eyes and saw the Pidgeot flapping its wings clumsily to stay in place as it leered at the two Pokémon. It was from the recoil of the Brave Bird coupled with the ice stinging its eyes like gravel scratching against wooden furniture.

"You won't escape!" screeched the ferocious parent, "I'll pull out your bones to reinforce my nest and strip your flesh to incubate my eggs!"

It let loose an ear-piercing SKREEEEEEYIAAAAH and violently tried for another Brave Bird, this time pulling its body up when it came close to the ground and aimed to impale the runt with its set of muscular talons. She rolled out of the way at the last second, feeling her adrenal glands work overtime to give her an instinctual heightening of survival. The Sneasel scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the fallen Weavile, still writhing on the snow,

"Get up! Please get up!" pleaded the Sneasel as she shook his body around out of desperation, "You have to help me! It'll kill me!"

The Weavile choppily groaned and tried its hardest to stand on its feet. The Pidgeot turned around and swooped in for another round. Instead of another reckless body attack, the Pidgeot pulled an air brake and hovered a few feet off the ground to maul the Sharp Claw Pokémon with its feet. The Sneasel yelped and jumped back, trying to protect its face from the flurry of nailed kicks. She received a few lacerations on her arms and it hurt like hell, blood and suffering flowing from broken skin.

The Weavile scout tried to pitch into the battle and delivered a swipe across the bird's lower back, trying to draw attention away from the far more vulnerable Sneasel. Following up the attack, he threw himself onto the bird to the ground and tried to shred it up. Unfortunately for the Weavile, he was still aching from the fall, and the pin effort was quite weak. The Pidgeot only managed to have its breast lightly brush against the ground as it threw off the Weavile with a powerful flick of its back and both of its wings. He stumbled back into the base of the tree housing the nest, but managed to at least steal the parent's attention from the Sneasel.

The Pidgeot hissed at being attacked from behind and gave a fiery glare at the shaken up Weavile at the tree. It jerked its body around, fluttered a foot higher, and then tried to crash its nails on the Weavile's body, who now had his torso up and off the ground. He crossed both arms in front of his face, doing little in actually preventing damage from the talons. It dug into his arms and clenched down part way, shaving off a moderate amount of skin and drawing out small red rivers of his crimson essence.

The Weavile screamed in suffering and pushed both arms forward as hard as he could, throwing off the Pidgeot momentarily, and with it, flakes of skin and fur with a ribbon of blood on the snow. His body forced him to begin hyperventilating from the sheer pain of having his arms being cut into ribbons. He gave an earnest effort to stand up and succeeded when the Pidgeot was closing in to deliver another barrage of kicks, this time intended for his torso. The Weavile's new posture of leaning against a tree on two legs did little in protecting him from the second salvo.

Almost like an ancient dance, the Bird Pokémon bobbed and weaved energetically to come just an inch out of harm's away from her victim to chain with a pinch with her razor-sharp beak on the forehead or near the eyes, or jabbing into his stomach with a talon. Her victim continued to swat in vain or make a break for a better position instead of having his back forced against a tree, only to be punished with a quick, cruel counter maneuver.

The Weavile's movements grew slower and slower as the wounds piled up. He saw the Sneasel in the corner of his eye, immobilized by all the acts of horror in front of her. Hollow, hot rage started to churn in her chest. The Sneasel wanted to help, but she was too afraid approaching the big bird and assisting her partner who was being scratched to high heavens. She mentally wrestled with the decision to pitch in and aid the Scout,

"I can't stand him getting ripped apart!"

"Then why don't you help? You have sharp nails too!"

"I would, but, I would have to go up against those talons… those tremendous, terrifying talons…"

"Wings!" he cried at the top of his voice while failing to defend himself. The Sneasel snapped out of her indecision and darted forward to try and help her companion. She yelled and pressed her feet off the snow to spring into the air, opting for a downward aerial assault on the avian attacker. Her left hand was poised to scrape downward, cleaving through as much as it could. The runt timed the attack the best she could so her claw would do as much damage as deep in the wing as her body would allow; hoping that it would shake the Pidgeot off him. Her claw hooked downward and spiked into the back of the Pidgeot's left wing. Gravity and momentum aided in tearing the claw down the left wing, clipping bones and scattering feathers upon the icy, scarcely colored environment.

Reflexively, the Bird Pokémon howled in an angry spasm and accidently tumbled onto its right side. The exhausting flailing of wings and feet kicking in the air also knocked the Sharp Claw Pokémon away in spite. She knelt and cupped the wound, feeling her left hand wetted with her own blood. A sickening hiss churned in front of her. The Pidgeot regained its footing with a crooked, damaged, left wing. The mother bird murderously glared at the runt, who was leering back with a hurt, hateful expression. To the right of her vision, the wounded Weavile stirred in pain, giving her an idea. She used her intact wing to point at the bleeding Weavile slumped against the tree with a toying grin.

"Do you see that, over there?"

The Sneasel turned her head at her ruined partner. His dark coat was scratched to high heavens with a very slowly growing puddle of blood pooling at where he sat from numerous wounds. He looked up with a weak face of anguish at his partner. The Pidgeot screeched and foamed at the Sneasel,

"I'll tell you this once: run and never return. I'll finish him off and you can inform the rest of your inbred trash to stay clear of me, unless they want a similar end. So, get up and run! Run! Get out of here!"

And there sat the Sneasel with her arm still over the main scratch she received, with a face of fire. Both of the Sharp Claw Pokémon looked at each other with heavy and strained faces.

"Please… duh, do it…" croaked the Weavile, "it's not worth it. You can fall back and get a party to take revenge upon this Pidgeot…" He ended with some wet coughing, but his pitiful state and words did little to move her.

His partner stayed silent in meditation of what she should do. She started to debate amongst herself under her breath, away from both of their ears.

At first, she listened to the logical part of her mind.

"He might be right… I'll just die if I stick around."

The zealous side that came with her dark-typing highly disagreed.

"Why would I bother turning around? Crying for help won't do anything. They won't listen to me, and he'll die in vain!"

"You'd at least have your life!"

"And I'd be empty handed again with more beatings that would make me regret coming back like this. Running away is not the answer! I can beat it!"

The Sneasel withdrew her hand and noticed the red stains on it. She wasn't squeamish at the sight of her blood, though to be fair, she wasn't the one bleeding out after being torn apart by a protective Pidgeot parent. Her digits fiddled about for a second and she gave her paw a quick lick.

It tasted… not bad? Not to mention that warm, metallic scent emanating from her forsaken partner…

She gave a few more licks to help put some of her blood back into her body. The flavor was oddly compelling as it fed the side of her that beckoned her to spill much more of it as long as it wasn't hers. To extract revenge upon the avian that mortally wounded the only Pokémon that ever cared about her. Feeding herself some of her own blood fed the morbid curiosity and primal instinct that was getting the better of her.

The Sneasel cleaned her paw and looked back at the grounded Pidgeot. The runt started to subconsciously pant in superiority from the taste and scent of freshly spilled blood. It gave her that familiar light-headed feeling from the other hunt. The unevolved Sharp Claw Pokémon also gained a new outlook on the situation: she took serious note of the Pidgeot's crippled wing.

(There would be no way that bird could ever fly like it did before. And it would be impossible for it to return to its nest because of that fact…)

She got an idea. It granted her the "now you've done it" smile her kind pulls off so well.

An idea so simple, so effective, so torturous to everyone involved, she just had to try it.

It was the proper thing to her if it would be the last thing she would do.

She stood up, hid her wily grin with her right hand, and gave her head a stiff tilt in both directions to let off small cracking sounds,

"Why aren't you running?!" squawked the grounded Pidgeot, finding more and more reasons to rush forward and punish the other Pokémon for its arrogance.

The Sneasel stared back in tough silence for just a second and marched to Weavile, whose consciousness was dimming from blood loss. Her smile flipped one hundred and eighty degrees, washing away her cavalier attitude to a stone-serious visage. She made up her mind on a crucial matter.

"What… what are you doing?" inquired the bleeding Weavile.

"I'm about to make that bird feel far, far more pain than it gave you," she answered with a soothing palm on the Weavile's shoulder, "by claiming those eggs."

"But… it's not worth it. It'll just fly up and strike you down…"

"Take a good look at it," the runt spoke and stepped aside to let the Weavile see the parent with the crooked wing. Her mouth flipped again into a reassuring smile. She knelt down and whispered,

"It can't fly with that wing." complete with a wink.

In that moment, the Weavile was taken aback and gasped in the realization of her plan. He mustered a weak, though heartwarmingly tearful smile towards her; laughing in disbelief of how genius it was. The Weavile scout congratulated her from the bottom of his soul, trying hard to choke back actual tears,

"You've matured!"

The Pidgeot grew tired of being ignored by the Sharp Claw Pokémon and sought to end this standoff forcefully.

"Enough of this!" squawked the frothing mother. It used its muscular legs to sprint towards the pair of Pokémon hell-bent on finishing the job against them. An approaching storm of awful screeching and wailing prompted the Sneasel to cut their solace short. The beta forced herself up the tree as fast as her muscles permit; going full throttle upward and not looking back or down. She regretted that she could do nothing more to help the scout, but that was not important.

What was important to her was making damn sure that bird sees her devouring those eggs in the comfort of its own nest.

At the Sneasel's personal pace just to rub it in even more.

Especially after hearing the cacophony of pecks and squawks below rain upon her helpless parent following her insults.

Another dosage of adrenaline circulated through every vein of her body, forcing her to ascend with more and more exertion. Just like the first time she attempted tree scaling, except there was an established goal higher up. Higher and higher up the side of the oak she went, punching her fists into the side deeper and faster with every second. Her entire body was getting one hell of a workout, and it felt good. The pain in her arm was deftly ignored as she focused on getting to those delicious, delicious, well-deserved eggs no matter the struggle.

It did not take much time for the aspiring Pokémon to reach the nest. There stood the eggs, completely motionless amongst the frosty weather, safely kept in the gathered bramble bed watched by the mother. There were half a dozen eggs, each of varying size. Some were smaller than average, but there was at least one nearly twice the size of the rest. It was a treasure to behold in the Sneasel's eyes. It was a long, long time since she had the chance to have a proper meal. This time, she didn't have to settle for the second-hand scraps that her hungry relatives failed to finish.

"Amazing…" spoke the Sneasel with a soft twinkle in her eye. She wiped a trickle of drool off her lip and pushed the eggs aside to make room for her to sit in the nest. The runt ogled the eggs, awakening the notorious wind in her belly. But soon it would be quieted. She started off with the smallest one, about the size of her paw, figuring out the best way to get to its nutritious innards.

The Sneasel almost felt a little guilty helping herself to the plump, sand-colored Pidgey eggs and denying the unhatched Pokémon any chance at life.

Almost.

If all Pidgey, Pidgeotto, and Pidgeot were this nasty, then eating these eggs would actually be doing the world a favor compared to more Sharp Claw Pokémon. Not to mention the favor she would be doing to her body.

Dashing away that silly, prey-like thought of mercy, the Sneasel gingerly tapped against the shell to get an idea of its firmness. Next, she flexed her digits and lightly scraped a nail against the egg. That gave her a good approximation of the amount of force she needed.

And her plan was thus: she would poke a hole in the egg and suck out the contents, adding more holes as necessary. She wanted to access as much of the insides to eat, not smash it in her palms and make a mess everywhere.

Her left claw was ready to skewer the Pidgey egg to access the insides, when she remembered something.

The female Pokémon about to enjoy its feast looked over and down its shoulder, seeing the Pidgeot and a still Weavile figure at the base of the tree. The mother temporarily forgot about the other half of the duo because it was so content on finishing off the evolved one that made the first aggression. Her plumage was speckled with blood and scratches to a lesser extent, and thought the worst was over; oblivious to the intruder in its home. The surviving Sharp Claw Pokémon knew that the scout was already dead or at least beyond saving, so there would be no need to shed any tears. Instead, it found the perfect opening for its torment.

The Sneasel leaned out of the nest, took careful aim, and threw the Pidgey egg straight down onto the mother that laid it. She gained a menacing, devilish smile in accord with the freefalling egg accelerating.

*SPLAT*

The Pidgey egg splattered directly on top of the mother, spilling its yellow yolk all over the Bird Pokémon. The impact spooked the hell out of the mother, jerking its head in every direction out of surprise before it realized what it got hit with. She used her intact wing to wipe off some of the yolk on the back of her neck and held it in front of her face.
Her reaction was the perfect mix of horrified and offended it could be for an expectant Bird Pokémon.

She screeched in terrorized disbelief of being splattered with one of her eggs and looked up. She saw a pair of crimson eyes, a slight glistening of a yellow coin above it, and a stubby, ragged coral colored feather parted to the left. And the one thing that stuck out most was a maze of sharp, snow-white teeth contrasting against its dark fur, relishing in the anguish the avian had now acquired.

The Pidgeot's vocal cords tightened and contracted madly, unable to string any coherent curses or audible responses at what she was seeing.

(That little runt got its way up there, into MY nest, hitting me with MY eggs, making a fool out of me by destroying MY children…!)

In sheer rage, the Pidgeot jumped, fluttered, and flapped around with desperation like no tomorrow. It tried it best to take to the skies and fly once more to reclaim its nest. It couldn't even get a foot off the ground. Its thrashing only added more damage to the broken wing. The Sneasel was having the time of her life looking at the mother unable to do anything about the hellish situation for her, but heavenly position for the Sneasel. She merrily laughed at the helpless mother yelling at the clouds.

"Hahahaha, look at you!" jeered the Sneasel as it held out the second-smalled Pidgey egg over the boundaries of the nest, suddenly calming the mother out of disbelief, "I bet this Pidgey wished you still have a functioning pair of wings, huh?"

"The moment you climb down," hissed the Pidgeot, "I will shred you apart at the seams! I'll make sure you die even slower than your wretched partner! You'll bleed for this, you hear?! You lowlife! You abhorrent, little…you… you…!"

The Sneasel stuck her nose up at the Pidgeot, and was ready to do what she wanted to do since the beginning of this incident,

"Anyway, you sure said all the stuff you wanted to up here," pressured the Sneasel, changing her voice to a playful, tormenting tone, "Something about… orphans, was it? Uh huh. How you'll give your children at least one parent to watch over them? Yeah, something like that." She put an extra emphasis on orphans, for she was still one after all.

She stopped herself to chuckle and turned herself around, still leering at the parent stuck on the ground.

"Well, I think I figured out something that is much worse than being an orphan. Do you know what is worse than being an orphan?"

She pointed a claw straight up in the cold air just a few inches away from the egg.

"Being food."

The Sharp Claw Pokémon lived up to her namesake and stabbed the claw into the egg, wiggled just a hair's width in the egg, and placed her lips to the hole to slurp out the extremely nutritious yolk and white from the Pidgey egg. She could hear the parent gasp amidst her slurping; forcing more and more of the life-sustaining liquid down her throat until it was sucked dry. When she finished sucking out the egg's contents, she scrunched up the eggshell and chucked it out the nest at the parent.

"Mmmmmmm," hummed the Sneasel as she stuck the yolk-covered claw in her mouth and slowly pulled it out, cleaning it of the yolk and yanking it out with a quiet, wet pop sound, "mmmm!"

After all the crap she's been through, it felt really, really good being able to inflict some of the negativity others had the privilege of dishing out against her.

The Pidgeot couldn't bear to look at any more of her unborn children become a Sneasel snack. She shut her eyes and turned away, letting sullen tears leak out under her eyes. She just couldn't understand how she was lead up to this point. She went through the trouble of finding a mate, mating, being stuck in such a dull and dangerous environment, and clung onto empty promises of her mate coming back after he flew off one night to seek a new relationship with that uptight Unfezant. To top it all off, a Sneasel invaded her home and mocked her by devouring her unhatched children…

"What's the matter?" poked the Sneasel, "If you're not going to play along with me, I'll just resume feeding. Unless, of course, you have a problem with me feeding myself?"

The Sneasel gave a haughty "ha!" and resumed devouring the Pidgey eggs. Her stomach was immensely pleased with finally being graced with a proper, filling meal for a change. The first few gulps of liquid made her hunger twice as demanding than when it started out, but subsequent mouthfuls of protein pacified her belly. She poked a hole into the eggs, going from smallest to largest, drinking the bountiful fluids madly, becoming addicted to them as she was getting sloppier with each one. Very few drops of it were wasted on the snow or nest. She cleaned herself of the protein quickly before discarding the shells and proceeding to gulp down next one. Then the next one, and the one after that, showing no signs of slowing down.

Before she knew it, the only things remaining in the nest were a few eggshells and a full Sneasel.

But not quite.