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She was glad when the man smiled at her, seemingly drawn in by her enthusiastic and charismatic demeanor; it was almost always the same - she was a woman, and she did not have any qualms of using that to her advantage when it would help her pack. Besides, she would be all too glad to trade away a chicken - they were beginning to have too many, and it was getting slightly stinky despite all the hard work that Honrin put into cleaning the stables.
"Oh, yes," Skye said in reply to the man's question of whether they had a flock. "We have the most wonderful birds, very useful," she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. They approached the edge of Thornbury soon, and she disappeared quickly into the stables, only to bring out a chicken. It was a hen, and one of the more beautiful ones - at least, as beautiful as a chicken could be.
"Once you have a chicken," she said briskly, with the air of a merchant selling her wares, "you never go hungry again! They lay eggs, and you can eat them, or trade them; they give feathers, for writing or for decoration - some of the most useful birds I have ever had!"
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