Check out the update to The Eyes of God:
Panting, I sit staring across the ravine where the murder dances, the black formless mass of crows jumping up, landing, flying high, diving low, and all cawing, screaming in mad laughter at their feast. My gaze falls, returning where I walked. No sight prevails, I cannot find the corpse full of beetles, nor any sign of those crawling insects thirsting for fresh, red blood.
Out of some desperate need, as when a child clutches a toy for comfort, the rope I even now am binding to my hand in ceaseless coiling, covering my fingers in a confused ball of twisted rough cord. Seeing this, I untie myself, and throw the lifeline over the cliff for some other stranger, should they find the need.
Swooping before me, Oraculi circles, passing my face thrice. Upon my shoulder he finally lands, and in my ear he speaks:
“Murder in revelry, a not uncommon pairing, for in dire solemnity searches are made—and thus relieved, pass into this. So this murder, it may have found a living village a source of food forever, trash disposed their want, yet a dead one—a dead one—which will feed them once, is to them the greater prize, meat rotting they cannot hope to eat in time.”