A young Shadow (type of Cuedow, one of my creations) contemplates his dinner with contempt; Shadows are notorious hunters and for one to have to stoop so low as to feed on a stupid Featherfish that apparently moved too far to the shallow end of the lake is undignified, to say the least. On the other hand, prey is never easy to find and and even he knows better than to turn down a free meal.

You fail at life, Featherfish. Literally.