A black cat was sitting on top of a crumbling wall, the cats tail flicking with lazy eyes .

On her head rested a black crow, its feathers shining like ink spilled across paper. They seemed an odd pair—silent hunters of the dark—but they were deep in conversation.

"Do you ever think humans are just… flawed?" the crow asked , tilting his head .

The cat let out a sharp snort, her yellow eyes narrowing. "Why are you are sitting on my head?...Of course they're flawed. Who else would name a day after a cat and blame it for their bad luck?"

The crow let out a raspy laugh. "Fair point Fr . Friday the 13th—like it's our fault their lives are in shambles. Superstitious idiots."

"It's not just superstition," the cat said with a flick of her tail. "They're foolish. They fight over imaginary lines and gods they can't see or understand and calls manmade structures as God which dose not exists .And with that...they have nerves to call us animals? Sounds really funny to be honest, ha ha!! "

The crow adjusted his wings for balance. "Oh, what about their greed? They collect shiny trinkets like magpies but don't even enjoy them. What good is gold if you're just going to leave it all behind when you die?"

The cat stretched, her claws glinting briefly in the dimming sunlight. "Speaking of death, ever notice how terrified they are of it? Like it's some shadowy beast stalking them."

"Exactly," the crow replied, dropping his voice to a mocking whisper. "As if they're not the ones inviting it in with their bad habits. Ever seen a human wolf down three bags of chips and a soda? That's practically an RSVP."

The cat's low, throaty chuckle carried on the breeze. "They run from death while racing straight toward it. Fast cars, faster lives."

"And wars," the crow added with a grim note. "They wipe out entire species over land or power, then cry about the planet dying. Who do they think is choking it to death?"

The cat's tail flicked again. "I saw one cry over a deforestation documentary yesterday. Five minutes later, he tossed his cigarette into a bush."

The crow tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do you think they even realize they're the villains?"

The cat shook her head slowly. "No chance. They're too busy blaming each other. When they're not pointing fingers, they're waiting for someone to save them."

"Someone like us?" the crow asked, a mischievous lilt in his voice.

The cat rolled her eyes. "Hardly. We're just here to watch the show."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their words hanging in the fading light. Finally, the crow broke it with a lighter tone.

"Do you think humans have any redeeming qualities?"The cat hesitated, her ears twitching thoughtfully. "Sometimes. They love, they laugh. They take care of each other when it counts. But it's fleeting—like a spark in a storm."

"Poetic," the crow said, eyeing her. "Been spending time around writers?"

The cat smirked faintly. "Maybe. They do have a way with words. Too bad most of them are as miserable as the rest."

The crow cawed again, this time with genuine amusement. "Well, here's to humanity: messy, destructive, but endlessly entertaining."

The cat rose, her sleek muscles shifting under her coat. "And here's to us—observers in the shadows. At least we've got the best seats for the chaos."

The crow flapped his wings, lifting off and circling above her. "Don't forget the snacks, partner."

The cat leaped gracefully from the wall, her shadow stretching long in the twilight. "Snacks are overrated. Let's find something fresher."

After the pair disappeared into the gathering dusk, two silent witnesses to a world teetering on the edge of its own making.

Time started to move fast and it regained its natural flow and reached a battlefield. The battlefield was loud with explosions and screams, but the black cat and the crow didn't care.

They were too busy eating. A dead human lay between them, and they tore into it like it was a feast.

The cat bit into the arm, her claws holding it steady. "Humans... Umm..that..they..taste's really good," she said, chewing.

"If they knew how good they were, they'd probably eat each other for the flavor alone."

The crow pecked at the chest, tearing off a chunk. "What's wrong with your memory? That's exactly what this war is about .Humans are fighting to eat each others meat . They have become as like as monsters or maybe more then a monster ."

The cat paused, licking blood off her paw. "Figures. They can't even eat in peace without turning it into a war. Greedy idiots."

The crow laughed, hopping closer to the cat. " Funny how they used to call us scavengers. At least we waited until they are dead. These fools are eating each other alive."

The cat chuckled, her tail flicking. "You're right. They're worse than us. Anyway, let's finish this one before the next bomb drops and ruins the meal."

"Good idea," the crow said, digging back into the body. "Humans may be crazy, but at least they're tasty."

They ate in silence after that, ignoring the chaos around them. To them, the human war was nothing more than a free buffet.

[ The end ]