Count Your Chickens (December 3009) [Calon]
Jul 21, 2018 14:01:33 GMT -5
Post by Narbeleth on Jul 21, 2018 14:01:33 GMT -5
The black hen had seemed to bar no hasty retreat from her husband though it complained as he held it in a way that made her wonder for a name which meant a sort of chastisement. Though before the chastising had hardly a chance to swing into full whirlwind, the hen suddenly stopped.
Stopped completely. Ceasing all movement, and Beleth's eyes widened as she pulled in a breath; thinking too that somehow all of the excitement had been too much for the poor creature. She took a step nearer as Calon's ear held to the feathers, though when he laughed she knew she had been mistaken. The dream hen, he proclaimed.
“It is hard work being a hen, I would imagine. All the wonders of when or if you will be cooked next…I do hope she at least dreams pleasantly.”
“As long as Dagarwen dares not to haunt her in her sleep,” Narbeleth giggled as he watched one of the hounds take a cautious trot toward the sleeping back hen and sniff at her. “And as long as she is not so lazy as she appears now, and lays us a few eggs, at least her temperament is not hostile. We will not need cook her so soon.”
Beleth frowned thoughtfully looking upon Calon. “Though if she is all we are left with in the end, you will grow terribly out of shape I'm afraid, my dear hen herder. Gadôl will not offer much to impress with her lack of chase needed. We can only hope the others should keep you fit,” she sighed, as if it were to be quite a task. As if the young man before her were not bursting already with enough energy to chase down the whole flock which the farmer she had earlier visited had owned.
"Then again," Beleth shrugged, making way back to the crate where only two chickens remained locked up. "I suppose it would be no trouble for me to find other ways to keep you active, Cal," she hummed suggestively. "Gadôl can sleep as much as she wishes."
Stopped completely. Ceasing all movement, and Beleth's eyes widened as she pulled in a breath; thinking too that somehow all of the excitement had been too much for the poor creature. She took a step nearer as Calon's ear held to the feathers, though when he laughed she knew she had been mistaken. The dream hen, he proclaimed.
“It is hard work being a hen, I would imagine. All the wonders of when or if you will be cooked next…I do hope she at least dreams pleasantly.”
“As long as Dagarwen dares not to haunt her in her sleep,” Narbeleth giggled as he watched one of the hounds take a cautious trot toward the sleeping back hen and sniff at her. “And as long as she is not so lazy as she appears now, and lays us a few eggs, at least her temperament is not hostile. We will not need cook her so soon.”
Beleth frowned thoughtfully looking upon Calon. “Though if she is all we are left with in the end, you will grow terribly out of shape I'm afraid, my dear hen herder. Gadôl will not offer much to impress with her lack of chase needed. We can only hope the others should keep you fit,” she sighed, as if it were to be quite a task. As if the young man before her were not bursting already with enough energy to chase down the whole flock which the farmer she had earlier visited had owned.
"Then again," Beleth shrugged, making way back to the crate where only two chickens remained locked up. "I suppose it would be no trouble for me to find other ways to keep you active, Cal," she hummed suggestively. "Gadôl can sleep as much as she wishes."
At that, Narbeleth looked between the remaining chickens, grinning and reaching for the last hen, colors made of both reddish and a puffy grey. She had selected this one for the flock entirely for it's colors and look, and as she pulled it out she came up with it's name entirely based upon it's looks. Amrûnaer. Sunrise on the sea. The poetic nature of it would do the sweet hen's look justice.
"Isn't she pretty?" were Beleth's first words to Calon as the hen did not even argue wtih her, and she placed her on the ground. "I'm naming her Am-"
Narbeleth nearly jumped back in an instant, for the hen took off in such a sprint that it's legs went flying ahead while it's body was held erect, and it's puffy tail out behind it. It did not run in the same way were Erferil had given chase, as if it was on the hunt. It merely ran. Across the bridge over the small stream, and far off down the main road, where it crossed, and then simply stood on the other side before it began to peck amongst the grasses.
"Maybe she'll make up for our sleeper," Beleth giggled, casting a side glance to Calon as she took off at a run after the bird and plucked her up easily on the other side of the road. She gave a shrug of her shoulders to Calon as she walked the length back up to their home. "I guess she didn't see the hen coop, hm?" she joked, as she sat the bird back down on the ground.
The hen cast a beady eyed look upon the black haired woman, and then upon the curly haired man, took two steps before the hencoop, then suddenly squawked and turned about, running again at full tilt along the same path, across the bridge, and across the road, and stopping upon the other side.
"What in the stars..." Narbeleth muttered under her breath, starting another sprinting jog to catch up to her, where she again tucked the hen beneath her arm. Her cheeks were rosy at her second arrival back to her waiting husband, who seemed to have a glimmer in his eyes at the predicament, and this time, the woman walked beyond him and all the way to the hen coop, placing the bird right by the scattered grains and the doorway to her house. Surely this time she would take herself to pecking in the correct position.
This seemed to be the case for a moment, as Narbeleth stood, hands on her hips watching the red and grey hen as she scuffed at the grass and soil, though no pecking occurred, and she again gave her mistress the beady side eye, strutting nearer Narbeleth, and even nearer, until she had strutted right beneath her dress and beyond her between her shoes. For the third time, the hen was off at a run, her head held stiffly above, across the bridge, across the road and stopping in the grass. Beleth lifted her hand to the air in exasperation, palms upward, and her expression stifled as she looked toward her husband. "Why?" she asked to him, and to the world, as she glanced to the other hens who were happily pecking away around her, while the rust and grey had crossed the road yet again. Why was she crossing the road?
Narbeleth's hair was all awhirl about her face and her breaths coming heavy after the third, fourth, and fifth catching of the hen, and she grumbled as the bird ran off for a sixth time and waved her hands after her. "Fine! But you best lay your eggs over here, Athramen!" she declared. Road Crosser. As if in answer, Athramen strutted into the nearby bushes and squawked, laying her first egg on her preferred side of the path.
Narbeleth nearly jumped back in an instant, for the hen took off in such a sprint that it's legs went flying ahead while it's body was held erect, and it's puffy tail out behind it. It did not run in the same way were Erferil had given chase, as if it was on the hunt. It merely ran. Across the bridge over the small stream, and far off down the main road, where it crossed, and then simply stood on the other side before it began to peck amongst the grasses.
"Maybe she'll make up for our sleeper," Beleth giggled, casting a side glance to Calon as she took off at a run after the bird and plucked her up easily on the other side of the road. She gave a shrug of her shoulders to Calon as she walked the length back up to their home. "I guess she didn't see the hen coop, hm?" she joked, as she sat the bird back down on the ground.
The hen cast a beady eyed look upon the black haired woman, and then upon the curly haired man, took two steps before the hencoop, then suddenly squawked and turned about, running again at full tilt along the same path, across the bridge, and across the road, and stopping upon the other side.
"What in the stars..." Narbeleth muttered under her breath, starting another sprinting jog to catch up to her, where she again tucked the hen beneath her arm. Her cheeks were rosy at her second arrival back to her waiting husband, who seemed to have a glimmer in his eyes at the predicament, and this time, the woman walked beyond him and all the way to the hen coop, placing the bird right by the scattered grains and the doorway to her house. Surely this time she would take herself to pecking in the correct position.
This seemed to be the case for a moment, as Narbeleth stood, hands on her hips watching the red and grey hen as she scuffed at the grass and soil, though no pecking occurred, and she again gave her mistress the beady side eye, strutting nearer Narbeleth, and even nearer, until she had strutted right beneath her dress and beyond her between her shoes. For the third time, the hen was off at a run, her head held stiffly above, across the bridge, across the road and stopping in the grass. Beleth lifted her hand to the air in exasperation, palms upward, and her expression stifled as she looked toward her husband. "Why?" she asked to him, and to the world, as she glanced to the other hens who were happily pecking away around her, while the rust and grey had crossed the road yet again. Why was she crossing the road?
Narbeleth's hair was all awhirl about her face and her breaths coming heavy after the third, fourth, and fifth catching of the hen, and she grumbled as the bird ran off for a sixth time and waved her hands after her. "Fine! But you best lay your eggs over here, Athramen!" she declared. Road Crosser. As if in answer, Athramen strutted into the nearby bushes and squawked, laying her first egg on her preferred side of the path.