They stared straight into my soul, daring me to move. Three massive brown eagles perched on the branches around me like judges at an execution. Their razor-sharp talons gripped the wood with terrifying strength.
Their eyes — cold, ancient, and filled with primal hunger — bored into me. I was shaking violently, arms wrapped tightly around my folded knees, hands ice-cold and clammy against my skin. These weren't ordinary birds. They looked like demons summoned from some forgotten nightmare, evil spirits that could easily peck me to death and fight over my bloody remains like scraps.
The cawing started low and guttural, then swelled into a deafening chorus. Sharp, high-pitched squeaks echoed through the trees as they called for more of their kind. They were summoning reinforcements for a feast. My feast.
