chrysoetus

Updated: May 29, 2025

And that bird there, the great, grand, haughty, unbending Aquila chrysoetus, that golden eagle, sat. I say, he sat. And there, so far as he was concerned, appeared to be an end of it. He might have been a carven copestone of the very granite fang he sat upon, for all the appearance of life he gave, except that occasionally say at fifteen-minute intervals he winked a yellow-lidded wink.

F. St. Mars - The Way of the Wild