Probably the last of her kind, and in a way I think deep down she knew it, as I saw the loneliness in her eyes as I watched from afar. To take her life would be the pinnacle of my career, and maybe my life, it would end a life of suffering and safe the woman I love. The blood from that mystical bird would be mine, and would cure my wife of what ails her. As I take aim, and prepare myself to take the life of this beautiful golden feathered bird, I see the reason I cannot do this. On my left, I watch as another bird, though of many different colors approaches my target with love in his eyes, so I do what any man would do in my situation, I let them finish and then killed the male of course.
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