Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

Wyrm had been holding up in the moldy barn for far too long, taking refuge in the shade that it provided for his darker coat. He hated the sun, but he loved his brother- so as Drake set out that morning, Wyrm followed in the echo of him on his trail.

His stride was still clumsy, his paws and head growing far faster than the rest of him and the block headed little pup still had trouble adjusting to the weight. His clumsy paws tripped over branches, broken parts of the fence they had to go through, and even their own selves.

As Drake neared the chickens, the gentle clucking that caught Wyrm’s massive ears made him paws. Inkwell eyes read the stories left on the grass and soil, and he followed the chicken feet tracks left there until he noticed the feather bodies of the whole family.

Was he a natural hunter, did his black coat bless him with some kind of natural stealth to help him blend in the darkness and sneak up on his prey undetected?

No.

A mischievous grin split his muzzle, white teeth breaching the dark shroud of his visage. Black tongue lolled out, breaking free of its prison as the hooligan suddenly barrelled forth, straight for the chickens. There was nothing tactful about this decision-making going on within the boy’s head, he just wanted to EAT.

The chickens began clucking near immediately, the hens extending their wings and running with little chicks trying their best to follow quickly. Luckily for the brothers, they seemed slow as hell.