The Universe's Mixer

The giant wolf seemed uncaring of the havoc it had wrecked over the City proper. One bite was all it had taken, and its curse, its disease, was spread over the whole place. Those untouched were lucky. Or skilled in keeping themselves safe. But the wolf didn't care. It didn't think of any of those who had turned as its children. Or its responsibility. It didn't seek them out, or even acknowledge them when it saw them.

It stuck to itself. Being out of the zoo had been scary at first, but then it had discovered the park and the rest of the places that it could go. It roamed in both its wolf from, and that of the man. Having stolen and stashed clothing in its cave made it a lot less noticeable to the people who encountered the man. They didn't stare and point and giggle when there were clothes involved, and that had been a lesson learned very quickly.

Mostly, it was a wolf at night. Because it could get away with moving around a lot better in the darkness. There were less people about, and less brightness to give away its position. Its dark coat hid it very well. Night was when it hunted, but during the day it managed to find other food. None meat foods. Things that it wouldn't have thought of trying before escaping the zoo and its keepers. Apples. Vegetables. Oranges. It stole these things, as it didn't have the paper or metal things that the humans exchanged to get them.

Observation taught the wolf much in its short time out. It liked to learn. It liked to try new things. It liked this world outside of a cage, on the other side of the bars from the ridiculous fake environments. It didn't want to go back. It knew that they were looking, though. It knew that it had to be careful.

This night, it left its cave only after smelling the breeze that came in from the outside for a long while. Making sure that there was nothing out there to see where it came from. It didn't want anybody or anything to know about this cave. It was pretty sure it could take out any rivals, but it knew the people from the zoo would have other ways of bringing it down. Things that it wasn't used to having to fight against. It didn't want to face those things.

Once out in the park proper, the wolf stopped to smell the air again, deciding which way to go to hunt tonight.

(After This)

Hank was working in his lab, clothes a bit wrinkled and dirty. He'd been finding some curious little things in the city as a bear, his animal nose surprisingly excellent at locating the hiding spots of creatures and humans alike.

But he was more interested in the blood samples he'd been taking from himself and other so-called weres, trying to understand what was going on in their DNA. He was curious about the properties that allowed a compete shift in form take place, and the brushing off of "it's magic" just didn't work for him. After all, magic was widely theorized to only be technology that isn't widely seen or understood back in his own world, and he felt the same was true here.

He was working heavily on the project, not only to make progress but also to forget the embarrassment about the night before. He was ashamed of biting an innocent man, however understandable the incident was. And he was very, very embarrassed about swimming in the nude with Baba, a feeling that rushed over him as soon as the bear's indifferent instincts were lost to his human form.

Last night had just been.... well. A learning experience, perhaps. At least, that was what Hank was trying to convince himself when he was forced to take a coffee break and his thoughts were finally pried away from his microscopic slides and vials.

Darkness was nothing for many magical creatures. Some creatures could see into the pitch blackness of the darkest night, while others created their own light. The firebird glowed; its feathers were sought after for many reasons, and one was indeed the glow. After losing one when something decided the glow looked yummy, the crone realized that even when not attached to her body, the feathers would keep glowing. She had half a mind to pluck a few and keep them for the future.

The City had its own firebird, and it flew through the night sky, leaving a trail of fire, or just the afterglow of its tail feathers, behind it. To go to Eric now seemed a bad idea; she doubted the vampire would react well to the heat she generated in this form. Somehow she'd become a magical living breathing furnace, more or less. She didn't burn things down, but she was certainly warm to the touch. Warmer than she probably should be.

She finally settled on a balcony, staring out over the still slightly busy street. It was her second night as a bird, and she'd ruined two flats from the change: first when she turned back into a woman that morning, second when she turned back into the a firebird as the sun went down that evening. It hurt like hell, and she liked to be in ore control of the damage she did. So, she sat on the ledge and stared at the street; she wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she knew she was looking for something. If she was trying to perform some mythical duty as the firebird, she was going to be seriously pissed.

After what she'd been through, with the fighting the crazy Charlie-obsessed lady on the rooftop, then the rescue of the boy Jake, she really could have done with a day off. But almost as soon as she'd woken up the day after the rescue, she'd been called into work. They'd told her all kinds of crazy things that she didn't want to believe, but couldn't really discount.

And what did they want her to do?

Try to wrangle the goddamned animals. They wanted her to act as some kind of One Person Animal Control Unit. Of course, she wasn't about to run around trying to capture animals that were really people (according to what her superiors told her), because the last thing she wanted was to get bitten by anything (again) and turn into something that she wasn't (again). What she did instead was go around and take notes on what she saw. What kinds of animals there were. How big the animal was. Where she saw it.

But one officer had come in talking about a polar bear, and she just couldn't believe that anybody really wanted her to go toe to toe with a polar bear.

There were a couple of nights spent with Dean. Being more adventurous now that she was healing. But she hadn't gotten a call from him in a couple of nights, and he hadn't returned her texts, so she figured that he was busy with something else. Or somebody. She didn't really care if it was another woman. So long as he didn't pass anything to her. But she did hope he was okay, and did hope that he would at least take a moment to text back and tell her that he wasn't dead.

Currently, she sat in her office looking over the spreadsheet she'd made. The list of animals was random and she wasn't altogether sure she could account for the ones she hadn't seen with her own eyes. The places they were seen were even more random. She couldn't make a tracking map if she'd had a gun held to her head.

Jennifer sighed.

The worst one, really, were the stack of reports sitting in front of her about a giant chicken. Not just a chicken, but one as big as a house. Literally. She wasn't sure what to do with the information. Go looking for it? Ignore all of it? What was she going to do against a giant chicken?

He hadn't been entirely too happy with getting kicked out of Zoe's place almost right after they'd woken up, but he made it to a store and picked up a pack of cigarettes and it made him feel a little better. Going for an entire night without a smoke had been a new and unpleasant experience.

Real joy came, however, when he got back to his place and after a bit of messing around, discovered - accidentally - that he could become the dog at any time he wanted to. Of course, returning to human form meant that he was bare ass naked, which probably shouldn't happen in public, just for the sake of law breaking.

But remembering how much fun he'd had at night, and thought that a daytime excursion would be better. Different at the very least. More people. More animals out and about. The sunshine. Oh, sunshine. How would that feel on his fur? Maybe he could find some kids to play with, too. Run around until his doggy legs wouldn't carry him anymore.

Not having put on his clothes again after his return trip to humanland, Jesse reverted to the dog form again. He spent a moment trying to figure out if he could carry the smokes and a lighter with him, and decided he could not. Even if he could, he'd have to find somebody to get one out of the pack and light it for him, and that just didn't seem like it was going to happen. Zoe had been quite adamant about dogs not smoking. He was guessing that other people would be as well.

He took the same route out of the building as he had the first time, and ran straight to the park. Almost straight to the park. He did stop and sniff a couple of things on the way, including sticking his nose up a cute girl's skirt to see if he could get away with it. He could. She laughed.

In the morning sun, the grass smelled delightful. He was sniffing it and then started eating it, not even thinking about what he was doing. Once he'd had a good amount of it, he suddenly felt the need to throw up. The big green mushy ball that came out of him didn't disturb the dog part one bit. His human part, however, decided that if eating grass gave that result, he was going to do his best to stay away from even nibbling it.

Jesse took off at a full sprint through the park, tail wagging happily, smelling the air as it rushed into his nose.

Zoe didn't see Jesse after that morning. She wasn't exactly mad at him, but she wasn't happy with her situation either. She didn't like not being in control; she knew she'd adapt, live with it, but it put a slight damper on being the Batman.

When she went in to work, the Amazon send Alfred a quick message to explain why Batman wouldn't be patrolling the streets again. She suggested that he notify the ones who had helped rescue Jake if anything were to come up. Alfred was kind enough to send her information about werewolves, not that she was one, but it seemed fitting. She read and went home to await the change.

As night fell, she started pacing. The apartment, while spacious and rather Spartan, seemed too small. She wasn't sure if it was the coming change or just simply the need to be in motion that had her pulling on running gear again to head out to the Park. She needed to do something other than wait.

The Park felt strange, as it had the night before, and she wished she could go fight bad guys or do something more than run. She wanted to save someone, be a big damn hero. Yet, she knew that she couldn't save anyone as a really big cat, probably. The run was nice, but it wouldn't last. Thankfully on her run, she felt the pain coming before it completely incapacitated her. Finding a set of bushes, she disappeared within them to experience the shift that made her want to cryout..yet again.

Moments later, a clouded leopard appeared from the bushes, its tail trailing behind it like a banner. Now what was she supposed to do?

Eric was unsure how fair this whole thing was. High emotions had him turning into a tiny little bat in moments where he didn't really need to be small. Quite the contrary, actually. He needed to be big in most of those moments. While turning into a different creature did have it's intimidation and freak out effects, it just wasn't as good as being who he was.

Not to mention that Baba kept petting him and cradling him. He didn't want to admit that he liked it. He always acted grumpy toward such coddling, though he suspected that she knew he enjoyed it, or he would have flown away. Though, he supposed, if she wanted to keep him around, all she had to do was fucking close her hand.

He hadn't seen her yet tonight. He wondered where she might be. He waited at the bar as long as he could before his staff started to irritate him, then walked out. As much as he wanted to know what was taking her so long to come around, he just couldn't be at Fangtasia right now.

Eric set off, unconsciously looking for Lestat. The other vampire might not know much about shifters and weres, but he would at least understand how humiliating all of this was. He was hoping he could find a companion for his woe, somebody to commiserate with.

"Get off my car, you damn bird!"

"That is not yours!"

"Shit, watch out! It's angry!"

"But that is not....argh!"

"Call a medic!"

"Call a priest!"

"Call mother loving KFC!"

After her visit with the doctor turned polar bear, the crone thought it was wise to finally check in on her wayward cabin. She'd gone to the Park and was a little surprised to not see anything resembling a rather large chicken, or even a cabin with chicken legs. No, all she saw were animals chasing humans, humans chasing animals, animals chasing animals, and a whole lot of large chicken legless Park. ( Had the damn thing actually left the Park? )

Jesse went home directly after his conversation with Dr Hank the polar bear. He didn't want to be in public when he changed, if it was going to happen. If he became something vicious and didn't have his own mind at first, he didn't want to hurt anybody. Even though Hank had seemed perfectly in control of himself, minus that talking bit, Jesse couldn't be certain that he would react the same way.

Of course, being who and what he was, he could likely stop all of it before it even happened, but he discovered that he sort of wanted to change into something else. He wanted to know what it was like. On top of that, he was curious to see what he was going to change into. Did the City pick the animal? Was it related to who he was as a person? If that was the case, then what did being a polar bear say about the doctor? Or was it all random?

It didn't really take long for him to find out. Jesse changed within the hour. It hurt, as Hank had warned him. But much worse than he'd been expecting. He supposed he'd imagined a slight discomfort, but this was like every inch of him was in extreme pain for a few moments. Moments that felt like hours. Then he was swamped in his own clothing and a good deal closer to the floor. He walked around the apartment a bit, getting used to the new form, realizing that he was a dog, before going into the bathroom and jumping up on the counter to see into the mirror.

He grinned at himself. The mottled black and tan coat. The blue eye and the brown eye gazing back at him. He supposed being a mutt was pretty fitting. He would have had a dog like this growing up, if the ancient hag Marie had allowed such a thing, or if his parents had lived and found a way out of that place. This was the kind of dog every boy dreamed of. A playful, happy looking animal.

There was an urge that he found familiar, and he went to satisfy it, but rememebered moments into the act that he no longer had pockets, or hands, which meant no smokes. No smoking. That was a bit of a downer.

Well, he'd just have to find something to occupy his time with, then.

After wrestling with the knob on the front door for a while, Jesse managed to get out of his condo, down the elevator, and out the front door with a strange look from the front desk girl and the doorman.

Running, tongue lolling out, Jesse ran to find the first person he thought of.

Wanda had been attacked by an eagle. Sam was now a Great Dane that lived on his couch - he tried not to think of what he was going to have to explain to Dinah later. It was the first time since both brothers had been in the City and aware of each other that they were actually living together. They weren't even working together much, and Dean was torn when it came to that. He wanted to work with Sam, but he was beginning to wonder if working with the big freak was part of why Sam had gone completely dark side. Plus, here they didn't exactly have the same issues; Gabe wasn't even pushing them to play their roles. He couldn't decide what to think of this bassackwards place.

Sam had somehow gotten out, and seeing as he hadn't heard from Murphy or Jen recently, meaning a night or so, Dean thought he'd take a moment before heading out to find more werewhatevers. The freaking huge eagle was a new one, and the reports seemed to hint that instead of were-eagles, they should be dealing with werewolves, or one werewolf. At least he wasn't having those damn nightmares.

He took a deep breath, then sighed. "Cas. Castiel. I could use some answers. Cas?" He wasn't putting his heart into it, or he was slightly distracted. He was bent over looking into the fridge for something the big ass dog Sam hadn't tried scarfing down.

"Seriously? Salad?" He stood up slowly with a salad shake thing in one hand and a beer in the other. "He's such a girl."

Mad Sweeney was no fool. Ok, sometimes he was a fool, like when he had been dealing with Jeannie. Maybe it was better to say he wasn't stupid. No, even he was prone to making stupid decisions. Perhaps it was best to say he was an intelligent man. That seemed fair.

Regardless of what one wanted to call it, Sweeney was bright enough to know what was going on. There were animals everywhere and not just your common urban animal folk, either. Not just squirrels and bunnies and things. No, there were wolves running amok and other such creatures... and Sweeney was pretty sure he saw a bear too.

At first he considered that perhaps the zoo was having more problems than just the escaped large mystery wolf. But then.... then, he saw what he thought was someone transform one night and it hit him. Well, why the hell not. The City had brought forth plagues of Godzilla, zombies.... little leprechauns. ( He was still sore about that last one. )

Hank was… getting used to his bear form. Starting to enjoy it, a little. As soon as he'd found he could shift back and forth the whole thing became much more tolerable. Well, that and rumors has spread that he was not the only one, so maybe it was just the City toying with them as Hannibal suggested it sometimes did.

At nights he went out to the park, strolling around in his bear form and exploring. He liked to sniff out things, then take them to a hiding spot and come back to investigate them when he was human. The comparison between the sets of senses were pleasing, if not a bit useless.

Tonight, though, Hank went to the docks in human form, slipping into and ally and changing out of his clothes, shifting quickly. It was getting easier, the more he did it, and soon a polar bear was sneaking guiltily down to the water.

When he got to the edge he blinked, staring at the water and sniffing it. He almost smiled, though he was a bit nervous. The bear wanted to go in, to see if there was food. The human part of him knew polar bears were great swimmers, he'd studied up on them when he'd first returned to human form, but he was still a bit apprehensive even after deciding to come here.

All it really took was a small frog jumping into the water to his side, and Hank's predatory instincts took over. He lurched forward into a semi-graceful dive into the water, plunging in and finding the water perfectly deep enough for a giant mammal to enter for a swim.

Hank human mind felt a flash of terror as he cannonballed and the water enveloped him; he'd never actually swam before and had never been in water deeper than the shallow baths his mother had given him as a child, but the bear kicked in and knew what to do, plunging down and down and looking around. The moonlight didn't allow for much light, but it was still very clear, and as Hank turned joyfully he felt the polar bear's full appreciation for the world under the surface where his weight and bulk didn't mean so much.

Hank surfaced, taking a deep breath of air before spotting his frog on a rope hanging down into the water, looking disinterested. He went still, then lunged for it, far too slow to catch the slimy creature as it hopped into the water and bolted away, but then again he wasn't really interested in catching it anyway. He couldn't imagine frogs tasted that good raw, whatever the French liked to do with them in the kitchen.

Yes, Hank was a happy polar bear, surfacing and diving and testing how long he could go underwater. As long as no boat ran over him he could see spending the night here.

Charlie felt strange. It had hurt, turning into this...whatever it was, but in the end, he decided that it could be a good change. He'd never been an animal before, other than the one known as man, so this would give him a different life experience. He was lucky that Lucy-Belle wasn't at home; he didn't think she'd like his new face. It was definitely not his old one, save for maybe the eyes somehow. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, and gave a testing bark. It wasn't a bad bark. He spent sometime testing out smells and tastes before heading downstairs.

He caught a scent back in the kitchen where the attack had happened. There was something that smelled tangy, not bad but not right..blood? He snuffed some more, finding other scents, some good, some bad. He finally found one that told him food. He followed it; it reminded him oddly enough of an old fur coat his ex-wife had had. Rabbit? Strangest coat. Bunny. He may have found his bad bunny.

He didn't leave a note, but he was kind enough to close the door that he had left open this whole time behind him. He started trailing that bad bunny. It had bitten him, and he wanted to bite back, or at least show it the error of its ankle biting ways. Charlie wondered why he couldn't have this ability normally; it seemed like very ideal for a homicide detective.

The trail was leading him away from the mansion and the orchard to the Park. This was going to take some very good detective skills and the keen sniffer this particular incarnation of this particular police detective just happen to have.

Harley was loving this new life. Oh, she hadn’t at first. That whole thing about being bitten hadn’t been very fun at all. The only one allowed to nibble on her person was her Puddin’, and that was in a completely different context. Having some freak just walk up and chomp on her, not so great. And that had been before nightfall.

( Changing had been rough. )

Rose still wasn’t sure what exactly was going on. Some days, she thought maybe she was having early signs of dementia. Some days, she thought it was a dream. Whatever it was, it had turned her life upside down. Wherever she was, at least she still had her house, even if she didn’t have her roommates. Or her neighborhood. Or her job, because the counseling center and hospital were not the ones she remembered. On the days she could actually find them. She was starting to believe what the odd young man had said; maybe they moved. ( Which brought her back to the idea of losing some of her faculties. )

Murders, chaos, the usual was going on. They were still no closer to finding the answers than they had been, although Charlie's gut kept coming back to the only cannibal he knew that lived in the City. He was beginning to worry about his partner, but he wasn't sure if he should butt in to her life. He cared about her, much like he had cared about Reese; he'd have to talk to her eventually about Simon Tam. Apparently the doctor was no longer working at the Hospital, and his apartment was now someone else's home. He'd wait for the right time, if there was really something like that when it came to the matters of the heart.

Lucy-Belle was out with Jake again, which he wasn't going to stop. At least one creature in the house seemed to be having a good time of it. It was nice to know what the fluff ball of a Persian thought of her home, and when Jake was around, she would often times be rather vocal. Who knew cats could be so demanding, or so exacting?

Ted was...probably around. Charlie would need to spend more time with his friend. They hadn't done anything in a while. Not much at all since they'd decided to get a cat.

To be nice, and perhaps in hopes of seeing that strange woman again, Charlie went out to gather some fruit to make Ted a nice salad. Now and then Charlie would look for a particular tree, a strawberry with chocolate sap tree. It was a fanciful idea, but Charlie was curious to see if it would happen. Though he'd supposed it'd be more of a bush or a vine of some sort rather than an actual tree. So, there he was, collecting fruit to make a salad for his housemate, now and then saying something to the fruit to see if it spoke back to him.

With the sudden outbreak of animals loose in the City, Raven had turned the Magic Box into something of a sanctuary. Granted, she didn't actually know any magic, but she had guts and keys to the store and a willingness to extend business hours. She kept the coffee pot on in the evening and sold cups of fresh-brewed Joe for a quarter. People could read or chat while they waited for the City bus in the relative safety and shelter of the shop.

(She hadn't been billing Mr. Rabbit for her overtime. It didn't seem right, since she hadn't exactly asked him if she could keep the place open late. If he wasn't losing anything on the deal, perhaps he wouldn't be angry?)

The number of customers varied. This was a quiet night - only the little demon girl and a handful of regulars who'd holed up in the corner to argue the merits of crystal-magic versus herb-magic. Darkness had fallen and Raven had locked the door, but a sign in the window instructed would-be patrons to 'Knock for Entry.'

John's mouth was dry. As he awoke, he felt as if he'd like a drink of water, and his shoulders and back were stiff. He found these facts slightly peculiar. What followed was even stranger: he realized that he ought to hurt a lot more. The spot where he'd been bitten felt completely normal, and even the dull ache of his muscles had gone. He was cold. There was a blanket, half-flung across him and half-folded beneath as a sort of bed.

Odd. Watson groaned and tried to sit up.

The floor was concrete and bare. The walls looked like some sort of armory - they were covered in weapons he recognized from first-hand experience, and others that had come straight out of a medieval studies textbook. A punching bag hung in a corner. A washer and dryer sat in another.

It was all vaguely familiar, but also completely foreign. Where was he?

And, more importantly, how had he gotten there? Had he dreamed the previous night? Where were his clothes?

The wound had healed quickly. Eric had returned to his search for Baba Yaga, not thinking anything about what had happened with her insane cabin, except for the fact that he was going to have to tell her it was fully a chicken now, and that it had pecked him. For a very childish reason, he was looking forward to telling her about that latter part. She wouldn't be happy with it, and surely she would know a punishment that would befit the occasion.

But he started to feel very strangely within the hour. Sick. Not like exposed-to-silver sick, or out-in-the-sun-too-long sick, but sick like he hadn't been for a very long time. Sick like he'd been when he'd been a human, for all that he could remember of it. He began to sweat. Unflattering, bloody sweat covering his body with a slight sheen. His stomach felt upset and he had the chills. Eric found himself shaking, shivering, actually. A condition that he'd not ever even once thought of since being made.

Thrown off of his course, he found himself at Fangtasia without realizing that's where he'd been heading. He burst through the front door and pushed his way past empty chairs and confused employees to the back rooms. It was not yet time for the club to open. Still too early in the night. He locked the door to his office and leaned heavily on his desk, trying to figure out what the feeling was. Or where it had come from. The only odd thing that he'd encountered since waking was the chicken cabin chicken.

Could it have infected him somehow?

He was about to sit down, but doubled over instead. His body was twisting on the inside. He could hear things moving. Feel things moving. His nose ended up very close to the carpeting, and he shut his eyes tight against the things that he was feeling. He couldn't be dying. Not now. Not before he had the chance to really experience some aspects of this place. Not from some fucking monstrous bird flu.

But the pain ceased almost as suddenly as it had come on, Eric opened his eyes and found them still close to the floor, but when he straightened up, his vision didn't get very different. He was still about level with everything. Certain he was at his full height, Eric looked around. Everything seemed so much bigger. The chairs looked as if they'd been made for giants. The desk looked like it's own planet.

Moving not as quickly as he felt he should be, Eric got to the chrome leg of a chair to have a look at himself. What he discovered was not a thing that made him very happy. Looking back at him was the face of an animal. A bat. A very small bat.

"This is fucking humiliating." The voice that came out was just as tiny as the body. Unable to open the door, he squeezed himself under it, then easily gave in to the instincts the body possessed and left the club on a pair of leathery wings.

Angry, that was the word for it. The log cabin wasn't used to this confusion. Angry and afraid. Two words for what it felt. It had been doing its usual rounds in the Park, looking for a nice place to settle while it waited for its mistress to return. It had learned that staying in the Park kept her happy. Or at least less aggravated with it. So, it was doing its normal rounds when people got underfoot. The cabin with its long chicken legs had been minding its own business, as much as it minded anything.

The people had doing whatever people did when they got together, and it was just walking along. Then out of nowhere there was this howl. Or maybe it was bark. It didn't matter. The cabin knew as much as the people who were now running under it for who knew what reason, that that sound was not good. It was an angry sound. One that said run for mere survival.

The cabin couldn't tell that the howl was coming from a jilted lover who found his mate, thinking in the psuedo-wolvie terms that the now werewolf thought it had rights to, coupling with some biped. The wolf wanted revenge. It howled a warning, and went running to tear down the mate and the interloper into the wolf's territory. It really didn't matter the reasons. The wolf, the thing that howled in an angry fashion, was now under the cabin with the people. It felt like the mistress somewhat, and the cabin was trying to get free. The wolf was getting frustrated, and finally bit into a tasty looking leg. The cabin might have saved a life, or at least delayed the pain and suffering to come. The cabin finally got free of the things beneath it and ran to hide and nurse its wounds as best it could.

Later, hours, days, minutes, time was a little strange for the cabin, it woke up and shook itself out. It hadn't ever really slept. Rested, lie dormant, but never slept. It felt weird. There were bits of it that moved more than they used to, and instead of the smoke, there was this sound. That wasn't right. It started walking again, and felt odd inside. It didn't understand. And it surely didn't like how the people were reacting. It used to get awe and amazement, or something like that. Now it was getting laughter?

It kept walking, finally coming to a pool. It had never seen itself, not like people saw themselves, and it certainly had never thought to drink. But, being the instinctual thing it was, it leaned over into the pool, stared at its reflecting, and drank. Then it turned its head to the side and pecked at its feathers.

"Mama, look at that big chicken!"

"Yes, dear, it's a nice big chicken. Now come along. You've got to get up early in the morning for your lessons."

The cabin, now chicken, felt as if sleeping would be a good thing to try again. All these extra moving bits and pieces had tired the poor thing out. It started roaming the Park to find a place to roost, somewhat aware that the mistress would be upset if it left the very large yard/Park.