32nd of Winter, 518
A weak winter sun was just cresting over Zintia, and the grounds of the Infinity Manor were bathed in the gold of early morning. In any other city there might have been a drowsy, tranquil air to the beautiful early hours; but Lhavit never slept, and neither did Infinity and it's many denizens.
Madeira, fresh from class, had put away her fancy silks and jewels and prowled the front yard in a simple cotton dress. She sang nursery rhymes with Emma as she threw handfuls of feed out for the fat hens and Big Red, the aging threadbare rooster. The little ghost was helping as best she could, reaching into Madeira's basket with lines of concentration between her brows, trying lift and throw the spilling seeds with her incorporeal hands.
"Cluck, cluck red hen
Have you any eggs?"
Madeira started the simple melody, her voice light, high and unpracticed. From their spot in front of the hutch she could see the turrets of Savis' little castle flapping their jaunty blue flags. The Spiritist roused the Architectrix that lingered in the grounds with a pull of attention.
Sing with us, house.
Never one to miss an opportunity to flaunt its passion for art, the house bestirred itself with enthusiasm. The sound of the wind through the trees began to change, as the leaves all bent just so. The rustling became a jaunty whistle, and Madeira showed her pleasure through warm thoughts and praise.
"Yes sir! Yes sir!
As many as your legs!"
Emma replied lustily, throwing a handful of seed into the wind and having it blown back through her. The chickens scrambled through her shroud to peck at the spilled seeds.
"One for your breakfast", the ghost continued, stepping through the tide of chickens.
"And one for your lunch!
Come back tomorrow,
I'll have another bunch!"
Madeira threw the last of the feed across the grass and put down her empty basket. The house opened latch in the wall of the hutch, and she only had to lift the panel and brace it with its wooden rod. The inside of their little chicken habitat was insulated with straw and stank of warm chickens. Nestled in the little piles of bedding were five fresh spotted eggs. Bracing her basket on her hip she started the nursery rhyme again.
"Cluck, cluck red hen,
Have you any eggs?"
"Yes sir! Yes sir!
As many as your legs!"
The house whistled along, and even seemed to be catching the simple melody in its manipulation of the trees, to Emma's delight. Madeira plucked out the eggs one by one, tucking them away into her basket. She was just weighing Rosie's egg in her palm, wondering if Jomi's pet had laid another gemstone, when she noticed something green curled under the chicken's bed.
"Emma", Madeira called, smiling even as she interrupted the girl's song. "Come see this."
The ghost blinked to her side with a stir of cold air, squinting into the empty hutch.
"What?"
"Right there, in the nest. Look closer."
The little girl's stuck her head inside, looking down into the matted straw, and her big brown eyes grew even wider.
"Wow, did Rosie lay a snake?!"
The Alvadas native did consider this briefly. In a certain way it made more sense than a chicken laying two hundred carats worth of gemstones every couple weeks.
"I don't think so, kitten. I think they snuck in here to stay warm."
Two snakes were tightly curcled around each other, buried in the dent of Rosie's fluffy body. They were too small to eat chicken eggs, so the chickens probably tolerated them, or perhaps didn't even notice their stowaways. They were typical garter snake, grass green and skinny. One opened it's little toothless mouth defensively as Madeira trapped the cold, groggy creatures in a gentle cage of fingers.
What was a snake doing out of hibernation in the winter, anyway? Perhaps the lack of true winter had destroyed their natural rhythm, she pondered, tuning our Emma's prattling.
"Oh, they're so cute! Can we keep them? Please? I'll take care of them all by myself, promise! I'll be so gentle, and feed them every day. Oh please. Oh please oh please oh pleeeeeeease!"
WC: 722
Madeira, fresh from class, had put away her fancy silks and jewels and prowled the front yard in a simple cotton dress. She sang nursery rhymes with Emma as she threw handfuls of feed out for the fat hens and Big Red, the aging threadbare rooster. The little ghost was helping as best she could, reaching into Madeira's basket with lines of concentration between her brows, trying lift and throw the spilling seeds with her incorporeal hands.
"Cluck, cluck red hen
Have you any eggs?"
Madeira started the simple melody, her voice light, high and unpracticed. From their spot in front of the hutch she could see the turrets of Savis' little castle flapping their jaunty blue flags. The Spiritist roused the Architectrix that lingered in the grounds with a pull of attention.
Sing with us, house.
Never one to miss an opportunity to flaunt its passion for art, the house bestirred itself with enthusiasm. The sound of the wind through the trees began to change, as the leaves all bent just so. The rustling became a jaunty whistle, and Madeira showed her pleasure through warm thoughts and praise.
"Yes sir! Yes sir!
As many as your legs!"
Emma replied lustily, throwing a handful of seed into the wind and having it blown back through her. The chickens scrambled through her shroud to peck at the spilled seeds.
"One for your breakfast", the ghost continued, stepping through the tide of chickens.
"And one for your lunch!
Come back tomorrow,
I'll have another bunch!"
Madeira threw the last of the feed across the grass and put down her empty basket. The house opened latch in the wall of the hutch, and she only had to lift the panel and brace it with its wooden rod. The inside of their little chicken habitat was insulated with straw and stank of warm chickens. Nestled in the little piles of bedding were five fresh spotted eggs. Bracing her basket on her hip she started the nursery rhyme again.
"Cluck, cluck red hen,
Have you any eggs?"
"Yes sir! Yes sir!
As many as your legs!"
The house whistled along, and even seemed to be catching the simple melody in its manipulation of the trees, to Emma's delight. Madeira plucked out the eggs one by one, tucking them away into her basket. She was just weighing Rosie's egg in her palm, wondering if Jomi's pet had laid another gemstone, when she noticed something green curled under the chicken's bed.
"Emma", Madeira called, smiling even as she interrupted the girl's song. "Come see this."
The ghost blinked to her side with a stir of cold air, squinting into the empty hutch.
"What?"
"Right there, in the nest. Look closer."
The little girl's stuck her head inside, looking down into the matted straw, and her big brown eyes grew even wider.
"Wow, did Rosie lay a snake?!"
The Alvadas native did consider this briefly. In a certain way it made more sense than a chicken laying two hundred carats worth of gemstones every couple weeks.
"I don't think so, kitten. I think they snuck in here to stay warm."
Two snakes were tightly curcled around each other, buried in the dent of Rosie's fluffy body. They were too small to eat chicken eggs, so the chickens probably tolerated them, or perhaps didn't even notice their stowaways. They were typical garter snake, grass green and skinny. One opened it's little toothless mouth defensively as Madeira trapped the cold, groggy creatures in a gentle cage of fingers.
What was a snake doing out of hibernation in the winter, anyway? Perhaps the lack of true winter had destroyed their natural rhythm, she pondered, tuning our Emma's prattling.
"Oh, they're so cute! Can we keep them? Please? I'll take care of them all by myself, promise! I'll be so gentle, and feed them every day. Oh please. Oh please oh please oh pleeeeeeease!"
WC: 722
