The sun was high in the sky and Linea was glad she'd worn a hat, though she could still feel the skin on her nose starting to crisp a little. But the carrot patch needed to be weeded, the tomatoes needed to be pruned and she wanted to cut some rosemary so it could start drying in the same sun that was making her a little uncomfortable.

"Oh well, I'll have to get some stronger sun cream. You'll just have to deal with it for now, nose."

She tried to look at her nose while she talked to it, and realised how silly this would look to an observer. Never mind, maybe the plants got a laugh out of it. Giggling a little, she stretched her back, knelt back down and continued to carefully pluck the weeds from between the rows of bushy little carrot plants. "The chickens are going to enjoy munching these" - into the chicken basket they went.

"Linea!" her stepmother called from inside the house. She scurried to answer as the women was as impatient as a driver in a traffic jam, leaving the coop of chickens open in her rush. In a matter of seconds, every chicken excluding the hens watching over their eggs had flown onto the fence and out of the house. They all seemed to go in different directions across the small village.

Two of the chickens went into a market street, stealing food from the poor vendors who chased them halfway and gave up. One ended up in a butcher's backyard and the rest is history. Three others just strolled around, munching on any kind of food the ground decided to offer them.

When Linea returned to her backyard, she full-on panicked.

Linea was greeted with the sight of the chicken coop, mesh gate swung wide, entirely empty, save for the anxious clucks of three select hens. She shut the door behind her hurriedly, desperate for her stepmother not to see, watching the largest hen, Daisy, survey her chicks, and then the rest of the coop. She began to flap nervously as she realised she was near alone. Linea rushed towards her with her arms outstretched, useless shushing and other motherly platitudes streaming from her mouth as she willed Daisy and the others: Rebecca and Shirley -- to stay quiet lest her stepmother see.

With the coop's gate firmly shut and locked, a large stone propped against the outside for good measure, Linea began to hunt the others down. By her count, six were missing: Percy and Arthur, the younger boys, Kaiser, the coop's ever-brooding and grumpy old rooster, and the three girls, Lacey, Macey and Casey. She turned to the house and yelled out some half baked excuse about seeing friends at the market, hoping that would hold her stepmother off on any suspicion and set off down the road into town. With her bag slug over her shoulder, she held out a fistful of chicken feed, yellow corn mixed with brown seed, and the occasional mealworm: irresistible fare for even the most spoiled fowl.

As she made her way down the path, brown leather shoes clicking against the paving stones, she ran into Ridley, the butcher, with blood still staining the cracks in his hands and nailbeds. He bumped into her and jumped back, apologising profusely.

"Christ! Linea! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" he exclaimed, looking her up and down. "Say, what are you doing out here?"

Linea held out her hand full of feed. "I'm looking for my chickens, they all seem to have escaped and--" she trailed off, noticing a feather stuck to Ridley's boot. It shimmered in the early evening light, black and shining green, like that of a magpie. The exact same as Kaiser, the old rooster. "You wouldn't have happened to have seen a rooster around here, have you?"

"A rooster? Why yes, I slaughtered one just earlier today, though he was rather stringy and far too lean. Not enough meat to sell, I think I shall have to boil him up into a broth for me and the wife. Why do you ask--" he paused, face awash with realisation. His face went pale, and his voice thin. "Oh, Linea, I am so sorry! I did not even think he could belong to anyone! I should have asked."

Linea paused, navigating her next steps carefully. She had never cared much for Kaiser, his snippy beak always pricked her, and he was far too defensive of his women. Nevertheless, Linea could spin a tale, and so with her lip wobbling precisely, she turned to the butcher with newly wet eyes. "Oh, Ridley, how could you? I shall have to buy a new rooster for my family, and I cannot possibly afford one on my own. I shall have to sell my very best dress just to even enter the livestock auctions next week, and even then I may not make a bid high enough!"

Ridley looked at her with his eyes wide, shifting uncomfortably at the sight of the sobbing girl in front of him. He pressed a bundle of gold coins into her hands and muttered an apology before skittering away.