Chicken Run [Job]

Spoiler:

”You sure that’s safe to eat?”

The guy was starting to look a little peeved at her questioning his methods more than getting the chicken back, but the woman really couldn’t help herself. Magic enhanced meat? Sounded fishy and questionable to her. Sure it could feed more people, but what if it had backlash effects? People might complain if their children suddenly developed wings or they grew gills themselves. Then where would this fellow be?

”Would you just get my damned chicken already?! And if you harm a single feather on that bird I’ll make sure you’re…I’ll have you….you’ll….YOU WON’T GET YOUR MONEY AND HAVE TO PAY FOR THE CHICKEN!” Yep she’d reached the end of his patience, a small frown marring her features.

’Like hell,’ she snorted in the safety of her mind, ’This thing’s big enough to be a danger anyhow. If anyone should be paying up its YOU buddy.’ Well she wouldn’t say that aloud lest he rescind any monetary offer entirely…and still found a way to force her into this job now that she was already here. She didn’t mind not harming an animal: Rohma liked animals. She almost felt sorry enough to turn vegetarian. Almost. As long as she didn’t have time to form an attachment she held few qualms about eating them since she’d rather not eat friends or acquaintances.

Sighing her gaze turned away from the grumbling man now directing workers to repair the fence to prevent any further or future escapes. Thanks to the oversized nature of their livestock a lot of the farm appeared built more for some giant race – or at least some people twice their current height. Even the crates and wagons were ginormous. ’Crates….’ A dumb idea came to mind, a really simple one, but an idea no less. ”Hey,” she finally called out, getting a rather grumpy “What?!” in return. Jerking a thumb towards one of the empty, oversized boxes she turned towards him, ”Mind if I borrow a few things?”


T’was certainly a beautiful day! Being outside of that confined space made it only better though, Sir Oswald Maximillion von Mitternacht….II quite pleased about escaping that ridiculous pen. How dare those petty humans think he should be in there when his father ruled the roost?! Well before they diced him up for some holiday dinner and let some other heathen take his place. Honestly, how repulsive a thought! They should’ve given him an entire field to roam free in and praise the gods for every day he chose to deign them with his presence!

There he went, strutting about – and trying to ignore some ominous leaf shaking – chirping occasionally about how wonderful and great he was if only to himself even though surely the foliage was listening! The large beast’s body bounced and jiggled, the overly plump bird almost skipping if such were possible, but he’d found that too exhausting after the first few hops. The only thing that might’ve made this day any better would’ve been some human servants to cart him around or maybe….

…maybe…

Oh happy days! This was simply too good to be true! There up ahead lay a large heaping of corn and that funky lettuce he enjoyed so much! In fact it was so full bits and pieces flopped to the ground – and he wasn’t so picky he didn’t mind a wee bit of dirt here or there for his father said it built character! A ray of sunshine may as well have been coming off it that he almost darted straight to it had his eyes not glimpsed the simplistic contraption around it. Truly the humans looked down upon him if that giant box and stick could catch him: they hadn’t even bothered to disguise it with vegetation or anything! He could see the string leading towards some bushes too! Just how dumb did they think he was?!

But it…did look particularly….scrumptious…and it had been about an hour since he’d last partaken in some sustenance. Perhaps just a nibble. Just a bite. A little something to tide him over.

He bum rushed that setup like an animal that hadn’t seen food in days, uncaring that he knocked the stick out of the way in his haste, gobbling and snarfing down the blessed food despite the sudden darkness surrounding him. He didn’t need light to eat for he was Sir Oswald Maximillion von Mitternacht II: devourer of all that was tasty!

”That easy huh?”

He didn’t care what she thought: only the food mattered right now.


Rohma bounced the stick, encouraging the pudgy chicken as the thing’s mouth refused to close. Oh boy did it want that hunk of cabbage – or was it lettuce? – and had only rested maybe a moment or two before further attempting some nomming action. She’d giggled for a bit before eventually they subsided into a half-amused smile, head resting upon her free hand. ”I applaud your determination, don’t worry I’ll let you have it as soon as you’re back in your pen with your little friends.” The half-smile gained hints of a smirk as she thought about the farmer, glad to have found a solution that could make them both happy. She didn’t harm his bird and got a free ride out of it, though she’d forever prefer Amarylis’ speed over this thing’s little hops for greens.