Chicken guardians

Robin Aatte · 02-11-2012, 01:04 PM

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Private for Caspa, apologies for taking so long getting it up. Is dating it for today OK? Set near the hotel Smile WC: 712

It was the early afternoon, the sun was at its highest point for the day, which due to the winter was not all that high, but still it provided a warmth that hadn't been felt for a little while. The breeze that blew through the lands was still cold though, but it was not as fierce as it had been for a while, all in all the day was pleasant. There was still a scattering of snow across the grounds, with a few remnants of snow drifts dotted about, piled against the buildings and trees in the lands. There was still little sign of spring activity though, the trees had yet to get any leaf buds or new growth, though there were a few fresh looking shoots of grass peeking through the snow now, perhaps spring was not too far off. Through this Robin walked, she was now a yearling and had seemed to have had a sudden growth spurt, gone with the childish looks of youth, they had been replaced with soft feminine curves, she had also grown a lot taller, she now towered well over her mother and sister, though she had not caught up with her brother or father, she now stood at well over six feet tall. She walked with a casual bounce in her step today, a smile playing on her pale lips as she did so. Her bow and quiver were in their usual place, slung across her back, she was never seen without it these days, ever since the war it had been the patchwork girl's most constant companion, unless she was in her lupus form, then she could not justify carrying it, there was no point then. Her chestnut mane blew about her shoulders as she walked and she reached a muted grey hand up to adjust the blue, patterned bandanna that she had taken to wearing across her forehead as a headband. The young sergeant had completed all of her duties for the day, now finding it much easier since her hand had healed. She had managed to injure herself a few weeks ago, a sharp nail going right through her palm when she had grabbed a piece of wood to prevent herself from falling. That had been the day that Liam had helped her and bandaged her hand, it had also been the day that she had kissed him. A swirling feeling of embarrassment filled her stomach as she thought about this, she had been a fool and had been avoiding Liam ever since, she could not help it, she just felt so ashamed, he couldn't possibly feel the same way about her as she did him after all.

The young female walked quickly, deciding that the best thing that she could do would be to go to the hotel, it seemed that Liam had been spending a lot of time there, perhaps it was time to go and see him, to see where the land lay, she knew that he had gotten her birthday gift, but that was all that she knew. The young female thought that while she was coming this way that it was time to return the young chicken that Caspa had given her and her sister to look after to where she belonged, with the other chickens. The young patchwork girl had the, now rather large, creature tucked under one arm, she seemed rather contented at being carried and hadn't fussed or fought her, something that the patchwork female was rather pleased about. She smiled to herself as she walked, the vigor returning to her steps, bouncing along slightly, not being deterred by the slight weight of the chicken. Soon enough the hotel loomed into view, the patchwork female decided that she would go and see if Caspa was around before she attempted to brave seeing Liam, that was an embarrassment that she could put off for a little while longer. She moved around the hotel until she saw the chicken coops, moving closer she called out, "hello? Caspa? Anyone around?" The patchwork Aatte asked as she padded towards the chicken coop, the chicken she had been given as a pet now began to wriggle under her arm at the sight and smell of the other chickens.

Table by Marie Lyrics and image copyright disney

Caspa Al-Fateh · 02-19-2012, 09:13 PM

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Leaving a single straight track from the wagon wheel behind her as well as her two lightly-imprinted trail of footprints, Caspa traversed the dusting of snow with relative ease despite the weight of the laden barrow. She had come a long way, but the icy winter ground was easy to push her belongings across, in their simple handcart. Mostly they were props that had been used during the magic show, but she'd left the prize piece, the magician's cloak, with its new owner Terra. The wagon would have been lighter without this, except that she'd replaced it and pieces of her worked leather with an assortment of spirits and bottles she would be giving to Strelein in return for all his hard work.

All in all it was a relief to see the thick trees surrounding the hotel hove into view, and although she'd only been gone a few days Caspa felt a trickle of euphoria at the sight. She needed some time to collect her thoughts: and she'd been awarded plenty of this since the revelations of the festival. She would not need to leave again for a week or two at least. She sped up, heron-legs marching swiftly up the approaching road. There was one other track here, a familiar scent and fresh, but the prints seemed far too large and mature for the smell she recognised. How time flew: she left the wagon by the gate and trailed after the tracks, realising they were circling the hotel towards the coop where she kept her chickens. When the back of the other girl came into sight, Caspa froze in her steps: good grief, little Robin was already the same height as herself if not taller. She had changed in many ways: her optime form almost unrecognisable, her hair and blue headgear as markedly different as the new sleek white plumage on the hen under her arm, where once had been only fine yellow down. Caspa could hardly believe the transformation: apart from the scar lacing her jaw and her new leather hood, she herself was the same mongrel she'd been when they first met.

Caspa opened her jaws to let out a call of greeting, and then stiffened. The door to her coop was swinging off its hinges. She could see the pair of fowls inside, but there was something else... a trail of small but perfectly canine-formed prints leading into the pen. And not coming out again. A fox... and he was somewhere inside. Perhaps under the sleeping platform or in a nesting box... she cursed herself for leaving her throwing knives back at the wagon. If she could alert Robin, maybe that bow she carried would find a use in saving the birds from the small predator. How were they to get him to show himself? "Robin, look," she whispered, pointing at the prints as she stole up behind the girl, coming to rest at her shoulder. "Where do you think he is hiding?" The chickens were huddled together on one side of the cage. Perhaps that meant the fox was somewhere on the other.

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table image credit to Burksy@flickr

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