Skinned

One early afternoon I sat on my sisters chair hoping to "see" something, "hear" something. Maybe catch a glimpse of the treasure my chickens hold.
Spawned on my right the "Flesh Thirsty Chicken", I call her that because she likes chicken flesh rather than the chicken feed we give her. In the middle is another housed hen, jailed for having a wound in her thigh. It turned out the "Flesh Thirsty Chicken. She started from plucking and poking at her victims feathers to skinning her with single shot , skin piercing beak. The violent hen feeling greater thirst day after day for that sensational taste of raw chicken. After she was done skinning her prey she moved to biting full bites of flesh when ever she got the chance to do it. The blood was dripping down the cold white feathers now turned pale red ,then fell into the poop-giving the ants a sour look and dried in the ice crisp soil. Each time the Flesh Thirsty Chicken stabbed her lethal Beak into her preys flesh  she jolted with fear and screeched and screamed.  I felt sorry for the wounded chicken ; her thigh was being chewed while alive by her partner.
I crouched down looking at the ground and noticed the black small ants making their way through the jungle of leaves and earth. Each leave was decomposing in a different way whether it was by being chewd on by different insects or rotting itself through death ; feeding itself back in to the earth. I squashed an ant trying to crawl onto my footwear and it smelled like paint more precisely like the paint from the store "The Home Depot ".