This morning's prompt was 'scrambled eggs'... I need to squish this down!

or 

The place is breakfast, or maybe dinner, a late night snack? The face is... loneliness? This needs more work!

"Henrietta Hen, d'you have any cackle fruit for me this morning?"

The feathered dinosaur looked up at Ben curiously and decided she was done with the nest box, standing and making good her escape. He tossed the scraps after her and then she and her sisters and Moron fought over them. Then Ben felt around in the loose leaves lining the nest box and was surprised to find three warm eggs, better than he had any reason to expect. He carefully knocked off any unmentionable detritus and grimaced. No milk, but he decided he might risk a thin little pancake batter eventually, but scrambled eggs and what was left of the rabbit was on the menu for this morning with two of these. He was getting better at fried bread, but running low on fat, just a little of the last olive oil he was ever going to see...

His neighbors shambled around on the other side of the fence, but none of them tried to climb over anymore. They were in worse shape than ever and he considered the pitchfork, but his heart wasn't in it, nor did Ben want to risk losing yet another tool over the fence, or worse, getting bitten.