43 - 14/15 - Taxxon Smell

I dropped from my perch to the edge of the hole. I could see that at the bottom of an eightfoot shaft was a cylindrical chamber.

<I think I'll morph when I get down there,> I said. <Wouldn't want to be responsible for anyone spewing their breakfast.>

I hopped over the edge of the hole into the darkness, falling slowly, with partially open wings. A real hawk would never drop into such a tight space. I could feel the raptor's anxiety. I landed softly on the surface of the curved concrete.

(...)

I could smell the others. Up aboveground. I knew exactly where they stood. I heard vibrations. Their feet through the soil.

I was over ten feet long. Long enough to crawl up and squirm through the hole. I pictured Marco. And the next thing I knew I imagined him in my mouth, his soft tan flesh, sawed up. Swallowed. And Jake. Bigger. And Ax . . .