Light caressed her soft coral painted lips
Yawning from a restless sleep as the moon took station over its place
Hues of its restlessness shown in the stars that speckle like soft cinnamon on a warm sticky bun
The light is but a parent to everything brightened
Just as the dark is a parent to everything shadowed
Her eyes roam curiously over steam rising from slaughter and cultivation
Hungering the beast making it feel greed and wanting
Nothing else
Her nose first warned her, warning the beast after
Mind is blank and consciousness ignored
As she piles clay disks painted ivory and gold with heaping mountains of the slaughter and cultivation
She feeds the beast
It is now quieted and satisfied
But still wants more, thinking of its next move for more of the cultivation but especially the slaughter
Going after it with vicious jowls 
No matter how much it has, it can never have enough
Cultivation depletes for the slaughter to run rapid with blood and stench
That makes that horrid beast salivates

The slaughter yells back at the beast what will you do when there is no more? Make slaughter of your own kind? What did we do to deserve such a faith upon your hands?
The beast just continues to ravish the slaughter, its words just mere strangled noises to it
Slaughter breeds to die as cultivation breeds to feed its entrails to the beasts and secure slaughters death
She smiles and dances patting the beasts, oh so happily
She lives around sprawling homes not death traps unaware of the stench and murder that quietly surrounds her
Perfumes her
Slathers her
Feeds her

For how is it not called murder just because it’s another species and not yours that’s being split and sweltered with heat?.....
The slaughter asked just as its head rolled off and the beasts cheered