#excretion

On silent wings Houston flew above the starlit fields. The silver sliver hanging in the sky hardly gave off any light; a perfect night for him to hunt. 

A rustle down below caught his attention. He tilted his head one way and the other as he circled the area far above. It wasn't hard at all to pinpoint the poor rodent's location.

With the slightest tilt of his wings, the owl descended. His wide loop soon became a straight dive. His prey's heartbeat pounded in his ears and moments later there was a shrill shriek as his talons wrapped around that small furry body. A few powerful strokes took him back into the night sky. 

He made his way back to the hollow he called home and dropped the stunned critter onto the edge of his nest. The light brown field mouse lay limply for a few moments then scrambled to its feet and bolted for the back of the hollow. Houston hopped after it, letting a sharp talon land just above its tail to pin it where it stood. A few small squeaks of exertion escaped before it twisted around and clutched at the claw, trying to move it. When that failed, it cried out, "Please don't eat me!"

The owl tipped his feathered head, large yellow eyes boring into his prey, "Whoo?"

The mouse rolled its beady eyes, "Oh fine play dumb and tear me apart then!"

He gave the uppity rodent a peck between the ears, plucking some fur. He could hear each fiber tear from the follicle, a soft sound above the continuous thud of the poor thing's heart. "I simply couldn't believe a scrap of prey like you would dare speak out against an apex predator like me. So, who are you to do so?" He slowly lifted his claw up.

Immediately they scurried forward, but had now reached the seamless back of the hollow with nowhere to go. It clutched its tail to its chest and sat back on its haunches. Its ears and whiskers quivered terribly, but it made a noble effort to speak, "W-Well I'm a living creature, just like you! I have a right to live."

"But so do I, do I not?"

"I mean yeah, but that doesn't depend on the ending of my life!"

Now he tilted his head the other way, almost upside down; it was a delight to hear every tiny sound seemingly shift in space with each movement of his own head. "Sure it does. I need energy to love same as you. Do you argue with the grass and trees as you take their seeds and fruit? Do you consider the other animals you chase from your lands?"

"Well, no, but that's still not killing them."

"It could one way or another. Now, do you propose I don't kill you and simply take a part of you? Perhaps a leg or your tail?" He nipped at its forepaw, scratching it with the tip of his beak. That earned a yelp. "Hmm? What's wrong now? Isn't this what you want?"

"No!"

"Oh would you rather it was not you whoo was eaten, but instead your wee offspring? End the lives of your own seeds?"

"Oh that's even worse!"

"Yet it's what you do to the plants to survive."

"But there are so many more," it pleaded desperately.

"There are hundreds, if not thousands of mice out there too! Whoo are you to step from the circle of life? Whoo are you to be exempt?"

"I… I don't know," it flopping down and quivering. "Maybe you should just eat me," it wailed. "I'm far too proud to make it in this world."

"I'll say," Houston hooted with a small measure of amusement. "If you're so sure that you want to serve your place, that you want to give yourself over to me for sustainable, then alright."

He pressed his foot against their narrow chest, wicked pointed claws curling around the rest of its body. That heartbeat picked up once more, fluttering at the ribs containing it. He leaned in to take the first bite, only to hear, "Wait! Just wait. Um, could you maybe spare me the pain of being torn apart."

Houston considered, not responding with words. Instead, he flicked the morsel into the air and caught them in his beak. His little tongue pushed at their body, feeling the heartbeat that fluttered inside his head. It was rare for him to take prey like this, swallowing them down still squirming and alive. 

For its part, the mouse didn't plead or struggle very much at all. It couldn't completely relax of course, and its legs kicked reflexively against Houston's throat muscles as they squished him down. 

While the little mouse slid into his stomach, the owl got comfortable in his nest. His night's hunting had been successful, he got a small conversation, and now a little belly rub for his trouble. 

Indeed, though it had given itself over, the mouse couldn't help but writhe as the owl's weak acid ate away at its flesh. Each convulsive movement massaged the inner walls, which only made them flex against the unfortunate food all the more.