This is my response to the prompt, words to write by.
I just sat and watched as the scene unfolded in front of me. I flew down so that I could perch on top of the rubble and just watch as a stepchild attempted to murder their stepmother. I copped my head onto one side as I thought about this. Stupid humans. They were the only kinds of species that should let their emotions get the better of them in situations of internal conflict. I mean, you would never hear of a vulture killing another because of something like jealousy. If I had a stepparent then everything would just be the same as normal.
My emotions did not get the better of me now. I mean, I did question the intelligence of such an act, but then it would actually turn out to be my next meal. If I was lucky. So, I just watched the events unfold in front of me in silence.
The woman gave a shrill scream, which the stepchild obviously thought was going to be her last action. It was not. She actually pulled out a knife, which he must have hidden somewhere on her person, and used it to stab the younger male. He staggered backwards and tripped over the bleached bones of some animal that had once been a meal I enjoyed with my family.
The smell of death settled over the valley, and my feathers ruffled in anticipation of my next meal. Not one, like I had expected, two dead bodies were awaiting my attention. I let out a cry to inform others of the meal, and then I made my way over. Slowly, at first, because I did not know if they were actually dead or if I was going to get myself injured by those final thralls. Us vultures, or natures scavengers, have all found ourselves getting hurt by something we all assumed was dead. It may be wise of me to be wary.
There was no need for me to be cautious on this occasion, as both were quiet and still. I acknowledged the other birds as they began to land around me. This was going to be quite a feast, and I knew that all of us were going to end up suffering from overindulgence later on as a result of human jealousy.