081413 #worm The Aviary begs for more. Fuck. Me. With every thrust, its denizens rearrange themselves. Pigeons tend to stay near the water. Crows fly away from each other, arrow straight, but congregate later in secret circles. The gulls get preachy. Nobody listens. Trout furrow deeper into the labia of streams and rivers. A musky taste is their reward. The finches screech and tear each other's hair and fix each other's make-up. Elephants remember how to outwit bunnies. Bunnies remember how to race to the left and to the right, under the starkness of city lights. Unhidden, they are easy targets. And yet, they survive. The rock core explodes into magma as the Snoke fucks the Aviary hard, harder, one last time, and fills the Aviary's ass with hot, buttery spunk. The Aviary thanks the dirt under its shoulders, thanks the stars for whirling away above its up-thrust ass in the dark.