Family

 They gathered like vultures

at the smell of blood

each ready to bite and kill

kill and gauge the dying corpse

they gathered like ghouls waiting to rip and shred the bones of the corpse

 rip and steal and kill

vicious and merciless they waited, panting, 

breathe bated urged on

by the matriarch of chaos

but this soul would not die

the corpse would crawl, and walk, blood ripped, in sweat and tears

chewed upon and clawed upon

her strength as the strength of ten warriors and she rose

stronger and harder

she rose and they flew and scampered and turned to doves 

with pleas of peace

but the warrior would never trust the dove's beak 

which could turn to the carrion nib at the first sign of blood

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