As I stretch and shake out the sleep from my fur, I realize that my stomach is growling with hunger. I quickly make my way outside, my senses on high alert as I search for my next meal. My sharp eyes quickly spot a flock of birds in the distance. I cautiously approach, my muscles coiled and ready to pounce. As I get closer, I spot the flock of birds pecking away at something in the distance. Curiosity piques my interest, and I cautiously make my way over to investigate. As I get closer, I realize that the birds are feasting on the corps of an older man. The sight is both eerie and haunting, but I can't help but feel tempted by the feast in front of me.
I consider the option of hunting these birds for my breakfast, but then the thought crosses my mind - these birds have been eating human flesh. Would that mean for me to eat the animal that consumes a human.
I decide to take a closer look, stalking closer and sniffing the air to see if they have a peculiar scent. To my surprise, they smell like a mix of feathers and… well, man. I take a step back, shaking my head in disbelief. I guess this is what they call "Survival of the fittest."
I find myself drawn to the still form of the man, lying on the ground surrounded by the flock of birds. As I approach, I can see the birds pecking at his flesh, leaving little behind. I'm curious, and I want to see if I can figure out what happened to him. I cautiously approach, sniffing the air and listening for any signs of danger.
The birds that were pecking at him suddenly hop away and start circling me and the body, squawking loudly. They seem to be warning me, or maybe trying to scare me off. The birds are a group of small, black birds with beady eyes and sharp beaks. They hop around the man's body, pecking at his flesh and making soft chirping sounds. They are quick and nimble, and their beaks glint in the sunlight. Despite their small size, I can see the determination in their eyes and know that they won't hesitate to defend their meal from me.
I don't give in to their intimidation and take a closer look at the man.
I see that he is wearing tattered clothes, and his skin is pale and looks clammy to the touch. The birds seem to be keeping a sharp eye on me, pecking at me every time I get too close to the body. I realize that I need to be careful, as I don't want to become the next meal for these birds.
As I approach the body, the birds hop away from the man, their sharp eyes now on me. I know that I can easily take down one bird if I had to, but seven at the same time? That's a different story. I weigh my options, trying to assess my chances of survival against such a feathered army. They seem to be testing me, trying to intimidate me into leaving the man alone. But I stand my ground, determined to uncover the cause of his death. I have to be vigilant and ready to defend myself, as the birds seem to be getting more aggressive by the second.
I start examining him closely, trying to figure out what caused his death. I look for any obvious wounds or signs of trauma that isn't the open stomach that the birds are feasting from, but I find nothing. I start to wonder if he died of starvation, from a stomach wound or some other ailment, but I can't be sure.
That's when I noticed something strange about the man's fingertips. They were black. It was a curious sight, and I wondered what could have caused this discoloration. I sniffed at his hand, trying to detect any unusual scents, but all I could smell was the stench of death. I continued to inspect the body, but I couldn't find any other signs of what could have caused his death. The black fingertips remained a mystery to me.
As I continue to ponder the man's fate, I can't help but feel a sense of sadness. Despite the fact that I am just a cat and he was a human, I can still feel the weight of his loss and the emptiness that his death has left behind. And yet, life must go on. I move away from the man, determined to find something to eat.
And with that, I continue my search for a more conventional breakfast that does not involve human corpses.