Eat that, bitches! :P

He was a free range chicken, I do know that much.

I was bent over in the ditch, scrabbling for roots and grubs. When I felt his hot breath on my neck, I shot out my arm and grabbed him. I shook him down, but all I got was a buck. Not even enough for a double latte.

“Why I oughtta wring your neck! Sneaking up on a body like that. I have half a mind to take you home and throw you in the pot.”

He turned his head and fixed one of his eyes on me. “Go ahead. I’m pretty stringy, though. For all you know, I have the flu.”

I dropped him right quick. He shook out his feathers and danced back a few steps, then stopped and looked at me. He saw me wiping my hands on my pants and he cackled.

“Don’t worry, I’m clean. You’ve gotta learn a few things about poker, though. Let’s say we go in them woods yonder and see if there’s any fiddleheads. I’m pretty good at spottin’ mushrooms, too.”

More likely he wanted to lead me to a bear den, I thought. I was about to turn and walk away when my stomach growled. I started toward him again.

He puffed himself up and lifted a claw. “You might get a meal, but I’ll poke your eye out first. Is it worth it?”

I hesitated and he cackled again. Turning, he hopped across the ditch and started toward the woods. “Step lively, if you’re hungry. The deer will be out soon and those fiddleheads will all be gone by mornin’ if you don’t stop gawking.”

I ran after him, almost twisting my ankle in the muddy ditch. I never did find out why he crossed that particular stretch of road when there were plenty of grubs on his side, but since he kept my belly full with his wildcraft, I didn’t care.