You figure running underneath him is your best bet, since the enormous hawk is already in position to strike with his beak. With a burst of adrenaline rushing through your veins, you thrust yourself forward, dodging his slimy, protruding male organ and charging for the hole in the roof. The bird lifts a foot to try to pin you down once again, but misses thanks to a quickly-timed hop to side. Hah, he’s too big! you think to yourself as the sunlight beyond awaits your escape.
And that is when your feet slide out from underneath you. With a hard thud, your top half barrels over your legs as you do a face plant onto the attic floor. It was no direct intervention of the giant red-tailed hawk that caused you to slip, but rather the small puddle of sexual fluids he exuded just moments earlier that did so. You sense your chance for escape disappeared as quickly as it took for your hands to hit the floor the moment you toppled over, but what little hope you have compels you to pick yourself back up and keep going. Alas, the hawk makes sure your hopes remain just that as he squats his massive tail end down before you, blocking your path with his huge, white-feathered rump. You stiffen your arms to keep yourself from performing yet another face plant into the hawk’s down-coated butt.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you?” rumbles the hawk’s deep voice from above, echoing in what remains of the attic underneath the collapsed roof. “No one escapes the clutches of a hawk.” Sure enough, you look to your sides; the hawk has lowered his broad brown wings close to his sides, preventing you from circumventing his meaty, yellow-scaled legs, and behind you his head, bent over so he may peer down at you beneath his looming, squatting body. And of course, just above you, as plump and stiff as ever, extends his bulging, veiny, tapered, ooze-dripping avian phallus.
They’re just feathers! you think to yourself, They can’t keep me in! In what little room you have beneath the lowered rear end of the enormous red-tailed hawk, you try to push your way forward. You press your hands out in front of you against the giant bird's huge feathery butt, feeling around within the white plumage for where the rump of the bird ends and his tail feathers begin. You find nothing but warm flesh every where your hands traverse, so you search lower.
“Keep trying.... it tickles,” chortles the hawk mockingly. He only lets you fiddle with his end for a few seconds longer before one strong forward thrust of his tail pushes your back to the floor once again. It is at this point you realize that he is merely playing with his prey; any attempts to resist on your part merely feed the creature’s amusement and ego. Exhausted and frustrated, you figure it is time to appeal.
“Look,” you mutter softly, trying to keep your tone as mild as possible. “I’m sorry for whatever humans did to you, or birds, or animals, or whatever. But I’ve done nothing wrong! Please, just let me go. I’ll do anything!”
Once again, your words are followed by another contemptuous scoff of the giant bird.
What does the red-tailed hawk do next?
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