The flurry of feathers slowed. The pale brown hen rolled off the body of the hawk, whose blood was spreading, mingling with her own. The other chickens did not know yet, she could tell. They could not see the pulsing tear in her neck, pushing out crimson blood with every stalling beat of her heart. But she could.Connor also watched from a fair distance.
(Oh ok.)
It didn't hurt anymore.
She looked over at the shocked faces. She smiled up at them.
''It's gone now.'' She said. ''It's okay.''