A combination of both seemed like a suitable act. Prowling out from the tall grass, you hastily spring from your feet, coming into the air. The breeze brushes against your feathery exterior, and in mere seconds, you snap toward the little fuzzy creature. Though it tries to run, you use your clawed fingers to pin it down. Then, you plant the claws on your feet into the ground to keep your footing.
The creature squeals for mercy, but you are a ferocious carnivore. The screaming, the loss of life… It does not phase you one bit. You were grown to act like this, it is nearly an instinct. As the creature breaths it’s last breath, your eyes close, satisfied with the kill. Then, you slide the creature in your mouth and swallow it whole. Utterly delicious.
And this was merely breakfast! You knew you would be hungry later on in the day. Yet the best hunting was done now, as the Big Ones would come to the feeding waters. The Big Ones were not to be trifled with unless you had friends. Yet there are no friends for you, not anymore. So the best way to survive was to avoid them.
But the matter of more food was necessary. You know of two locations: the cliff ranges or the local river. The cliff is a bit harder to find food, but the Big Ones do not search for food there. The river has more guaranteed easier kills, but some of the early risers for the Big Ones are undoubtedly there.
What is our path for lunch?