To set the scene, a few White-tailed Eagles had already congregated on a small section of the pack ice, huddling closely together to temper the effect of the bitter winter morning in the blue hour, just before the golden hour. Then two larger Steller’s Sea Eagles abruptly landed and crowded into the huddle to enjoy the clustered warmth. I could see that the atmosphere was already tense, and I knew that the hunting had been sparse across the pack ice for the past few days, and for 2 - 3 days, the eagles had gone without any sustenance. Borne from an unswerving need for self-preservation, the motley flock of Steller’s Sea Eagles and White-tailed Eagles momentarily settled into rest and recharged before their next hunting expedition, but this peace only lasted momentarily.
Suddenly, there was a small splash in the water, and one of the White-tailed Eagles craned its neck to more closely cast its gaze on what the disturbance was.

There. Prey.

The White-tailed Eagle swooped down into icy brine and retrieved its prize. Only moments after surfacing, the two Steller’s Sea Eagles espied the White-Tailed Eagle that was about to partake of the fruit of his labors, but each eagle, in turn, tried to plunder as much of the fish as it could. Enduring barbaric attacks, each more perilous than the last, the eagle secured enough of a catch to stave off its hunger pains in mere moments; the fish was devoured.
Soon after, a frosty light wind began to blow across the pack ice, and the need to share in each other’s warmth erased the conflict waged only moments earlier. An uneasy armistice washed across the pack ice. Both the White-tailed Eagle and the Steller’s Sea Eagle warily agreed to a cessation of hostilities until the next splash and or until sunrise to warm them up for a full day of fishing and, of course, conflict. I am always humbled to spot/photograph and hear the call of the Steller's sea eagle (Haliaeetus pelagicus), who has grazed our planet through a few ice ages and never needed to evolve.