<div align="center"><em>Rosetta is suddenly in a Hitchcock movie.</em></div><br/>That's when she saw her life flash before her eyes. As she heard the commotion, she looked up and gasped as a dozen gleaming eyes seemed focused on her.<br/><br/>"Oh crap..."<br/><br/>She almost dropped the stick and ran, but if there was one thing she was worse at than fighting, it was running. Basically, unless the enemy was a higher life-form with a penis, then she was doomed. And somehow she didn't think flashing or seducing these birds would help at all. Unless she wanted her nipples pecked off...which she didn't.<br/><br/>She raised the stick high and began swinging it wildly, hitting a few, but feeling their razor sharp wings tear into her arm and rip her shirt along the front. Her jeans were snagged, and they pecked at her face and neck, making her bleed. Still, she never stopped swinging the stick, even as she fell to the ground in pain as they ripped her shirt halfway down the front. She wanted to yell for help, but the attack was so overwhelming that she couldn't get anything out but a choked whimper.