"Still, he thought. Still. As his stomach moved toward his backbone he became less and less fussy. Some natives in the world ate grasshoppers and ants and if they could do that he could get a raw egg down.
He picked one up and tried to break the shell and found it surprisingly tough. Finally, using the hatchet he sharpened a stick and poked a hole in the egg. He widened the hole with his finger and looked inside. Just an egg. It had a dark yellow yolk and not so much white as he thought there would be."
Just an egg.
Just an egg he had to eat."
~~Hatchet by Gary Paulsen
The sun was beginning to set on the trail, and she was very quiet without any hissing or signs of aggression.
I think she just wanted to rest before she began laying her eggs.
I will check back in the morning to see if she finished her "work".