He wanted to kil and eat them though for daring to… to do what?
Fly? But why?
He didn’t know, but that was what he felt like. It made no sense to him. He wanted to kil them for daring to fly? Why? Did he want to kil them to eat them? Perhaps? He was starting to get hungry, but the thought did not seem right… He despised them and wanted them dead for daring to fly in his airspace.
A saying, an old one he thought, played about in his mind like a jingle:
‘Eagles don’t eat flies’, but he could not remember where he had heard it before. ‘Eagles might not,’ he countered, ‘but I do.’ Then he stopped again. ‘But men don’t eat mosquitoes either, do they?... No, of course not!’ His thoughts were as if on a carousel rotating in his mind. There wer
