Leah was tired of this. Every morning, every morning, the chickens all started screaming at the sun. This happened every day. Wouldn’t they learn? She supposed that it was good Marnie let the chickens roam, but it was summer, the sun came up too early, and it sounded like the bird apocalypse.
After a long night in the saloon, Leah wasn’t in any mood for an early morning. She finally couldn’t take it. She put on her slippers, still in her wrinkled pajama pants and beaten up t-shirt, and went outside to see if Marnie could do something about this.
She padded her way over to the figure filling the trough. “Hey, Marnie.”
When the figure turned around, Leah looked shocked. There was Shane, quiet, impersonal Shane, surrounded by chickens. He had one tucked under his arm, seven at his feet, a chick in each hoodie pocket, and one sitting on his shoulder like he was the most pathetic pirate to ever live. Most of the chickens around him were blue. He himself was staring at her, looking like he had been caught stealing.
Leah turned right back around and went back to her cottage. She lay back down in her bed, now wide awake, pondering if she could trust her own eyes anymore.
If you leave your animals’ barn/coop doors open when you go to bed at night there’s a chance that wolves could come take an animal away. If you hear howling when you save at night, check your barn the next morning.