She rises at dusk to the wine-hued dawn, before the sun breaks its yolk across the sky. She thrusts her sharp beak forward. Hungry for the hunt, she waits, commanding attention from crest to claws, willing jealous eyes to gaze. It begins. Roosters battle in a velvet crash of burgundy and midnight teal, vying for her favor. Another day dies to the ebbing sun . Dreams of the crowing of the one she loves disturb her sleep.