"Chickens?" Makoto asked in disbelief. "Who keeps chickens when they don't live on a farm? Do they even make good pets?"
Emiko rolled her eyes at him. "Well, obviously they do, or no one would keep them. But yeah, it's sort of a fad around here lately. Chickens lay eggs, after all."
He snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything else. This wasn't exactly the nicest part of the city, so that made sense. Still...!
"I suppose that...makes sense," he said after a second. "It's not the weirdest pet I've ever heard of, just...you don't expect someone to keep livestock in their backyard."
"If it helps, I had the same reaction as you when I first heard," she said, "but these people get as attached to their birds as anyone would to any other pet, I guess."
It was the mid-afternoon, which was considered lull time before the evening crowd got into the bar. Typically, the waitresses didn't mind him hanging around then, especially if there were heavy things to be moved. They had even been somewhat astonished at the weight he could lift when he had helped with a shipment of wine crates they'd gotten while he was there. Which he'd felt wasn't entirely fair, at the time, since it was doubtful they'd have been so surprised he could easily lift one of those if he had been half a foot taller, but oh well.
"I've never had a pet, so I wouldn't know," he said honestly. "But I suppose it doesn't matter. Did your customers mention how their chickens got out? Presuming they fenced them in properly in the first place."
"Oh, they did," she said dismissively. "You have to put chicken wire up around their enclosures. It prevents birds of prey from getting at them. Believe me, I know more about this than I'll ever use," she said to his incredulous look. "But well, their five year old left the latch on the gate open and the chickens wandered out. They're obviously very upset about this, and asked if I could ask 'that ninja who rescued the kittens' to look for them."
"Two entirely different things," he said flatly, thinking of the fact that he hadn't actually had to go looking around most of a city for the kittens; they had simply been under the bar when he had expected a far worse animal.
She gave him a funny look. "Do you not like birds or something?"
Makoto nearly choked on his glass of lemon water. Coughing and sputtering, he waved off her concern while he got himself under control.
Breathe, Makoto.
"Sorry," he managed, between gulps of air. "That was funny for a reason you wouldn't get. No, I like birds fine. I mean that going looking for things is very different from getting things out from under a building."
"I guess," she said, still eying him oddly. Had she never seen someone laugh in the middle of drinking something before, or was it just that she hadn't ever seen him laugh before? Probably the latter; it wasn't something he did very often.
Concerning for a multitude of reasons, but none that I currently expect you to understand. There was a bit of a sigh implicit in the phoenix's mental 'voice'.
Just because I don't bray like a jackal when I find something funny doesn't mean I have no sense of humour, he shot back at it, ignoring the increase in exasperation he could detect. No point analyzing it now.
"So where do these people live, and how many chickens of theirs do I need to bring back to them?" he said, trying to steer the topic back to something that seemed more relevant.
"You're going to need those coops again," she said frankly before telling him.
~
He ended up getting a hold of the cages he'd used to bring in the yeowler cats before from local law enforcement, though they had given him a few odd looks when he'd explained why he wanted them this time. At least they hadn't given him any trouble over it. Several chickens could fit in each one of them, which was good as he apparently had to retrieve ten of the birds. Of the couple's baker's dozen of chickens, only three of them hadn't wandered out. Fortunately this included their two roosters so he only had to deal with rounding up hens, but still.
"It would be really nice while I was looking for birds if I could still fly," he grumbled under his breath as he hefted the two carriers. He knew he must look a little odd carrying the things, given their size compared to his, and once again cursed his brothers for stealing all the height.
I am sorry that our merger rendered your temporary wings decorative rather than functional, the phoenix said. I did not forsee that happening. But chickens cannot fly very well, so I don't anticipate this being too much of a problem.
"Still easier to look for things from the air," he muttered. "There's no way I can hide you from sight, is there? Active Camo jutsu or something?"
That would not work. I am too bright, and you know it does not work that well on moving things. It sounded patient, but seemed to have reverted to teacher mode. I am afraid you will have to do this yourself. What exactly do you have against chickens?
Nothing, really, he said, remembering finally to speak mentally now that he had made it out into the streets and started getting odd looks as it was. I'm just not in a great mood right now. The letter, and all.
We could still discuss options for things in it, if you prefer.
I'd prefer not to think of most of it, he thought back, fiercely enough that it felt startled in response to the intensity of that. Sorry. Yes, some of it I can deal with. I'll meet with the Kazekage. But the rest I don't want to think about. And I definitely don't know how to explain in my response letter about Miki.
Would simply mentioning it not suffice?
Mentioning it how, exactly? he demanded. Do I just write back and said, hello mother, all is well except that I accidentally a little sister, please help?
...Perhaps with a bit more tact than that...
If I use tact, she'll think I'm hiding something important. I will be, because I don't want it in a letter, but she'll think I'm hiding it from her. Which I won't, when we get back.
I am not sure I am the best equipped to ask about this, the phoenix said after a moment, sounding subdued. Your family is quite unlike any I have ever encountered before.
I can't tell whether you think that's a good thing or not. When it seemed to very deliberately not reply to that, he scowled and turned all of his attention outward. Sure, there were a few drawbacks here and there, but no family was perfect. What was wrong with his?
Probably fortunately, just before either one of them could say something they'd both regret later, he was distracted by soft clucking sounds coming from off in a side alley. Turning, he was rewarded with the sight of three chickens, looking as lost as it was possible for chickens to look and pecking at the ground occasionally.
Rounding them up proved to be much less easy. Gambling on them not wanting to run out into the foot traffic of the main road, he set the carriers both down, opened the doors on them, and jumped over the chickens, landing solidly on the other side of them. With his speed, he was able to nab one under each arm before any of them knew what was going on. The third one made alarmed clucking noises and started trying to waddle away, flapping its wings ineffectually and not clearing more than a few inches off the ground.
He pushed the two into one of the large carriers before picking up the third one and putting it away there as well, then shutting the carrier and debating what to do next.
I think I'll take them to the house, leave them there with the couple, then head back out and look for the rest, he decided. He also didn't think he was going to call Hitomi in; there was every chance she'd think the birds looked tasty and decide to become an eagle and eat them, and he didn't relish explaining that one.
On the way there, he encountered another pair of hens. Halfway done with minimal effort wasn't that bad, but then again, of course most of them weren't going to have gotten all that far. These two were duly shooed into the other carrier.
He was, however, attracting an awful lot of looks for carrying two carriers of clucking chickens around the streets of Soon's Haven. Oh well.
It's a shame I can't just produce a larger, more obedient chicken and have them follow it instinctually. Don't chickens do that?
I believe that's ducks, actually.
Damn. Oh well.
Apparently the couple Emiko had told him about were expecting him, so either they thought he was that reliable or she'd alerted them somehow. The woman there greeted him and cooed at the chickens, taking them one at a time from the carriers and bringing them into the small house.
"I'll get them all settled back at home before bringing them out to the rest of the flock at once," she explained. "I imagine they were only confused when they wandered off! Poor things."
Makoto neglected to comment on the intelligence of chickens. "Right. I'll track down the rest of them, then. There's five more, isn't there?"
"Yes, five more," she said. "They're quite social, for birds, so they're probably not too far from each other."
'For birds.' Does she even know how social birds are?
You're not even really a bird; stop getting offended for them.
So he set back out into the city with two empty carriers, once again hunting chickens. He tried not to think about how surreal that phrase was and failed.
Two more were some blocks over from the house, both pecking at a piece of garbage, as if thinking it was food. Truly, the mental giants of the avian world.
"Give me a good crow or raven any day over these things," he muttered, herding them into a carrier. They protested with clucking noises, but ultimately didn't offer any meaningful resistance to their imprisonment. "Only good thing I can say is they're probably smarter than seagulls and pigeons."
Not that that was hard, really. Woe betide any bird that was somehow dumber than a pigeon. Though if chickens weren't useful for their eggs, maybe there wouldn't be any chickens left in the world.
His bad mood was definitely showing again in his thoughts.
He found two of the last three chickens milling around an alley looking forlorn and trying to stay away from people. He was actually somewhat surprised he'd found this many alive what with all the rabid catlike demon creatures running around this country that would no doubt love to find chickens in their path, but there were things to be said for both luck and hanging near human populations. Plus those pseudo cats were more populous in Sand itself, anyway.
He was skirting the market when one of the salespeople accosted him. "Looking for chickens?" he asked, indicating the carriers.
"They're not mine, but yes," he said. "Have you seen the last one? It would have shown up some time yesterday at the earliest."
He gave the birds already captured an eye. "I found one that breed pecking around here yesterday. That's probably it. They'll recognize each other."
Riiight.
He led Makoto over to a stall in the back, a difficult proposition while he was holding the carriers. In cages behind the table there were various fauna, most of which looked like pets. There were a few dogs and cats, but mostly warm-weather animals like lizards and snakes...and one chicken, the same mottled grey and brown as the ones in the carriers.
Feeling stupid, he held one of the carriers in front of the cage when directed to, and the one in its own cage perked up and started clucking at the others. Not in an aggressive way, but a friendly one. As far as he could tell, anyway.
"How much?" he asked, but the salesman waved him off.
"I was just holding her for whoever came to pick her up," he said. "Let me just pop her in there with her friends and you can be on your way. Do you have them all?"
"I should," he said. "You seem rather accustomed to this. I take it you've seen this whole backyard chickens thing before?"
"Seen it?" the merchant asked. "Heck, I've sold some. Got a new stock coming in soon for some people who ordered them. There you go," he added as he closed the carriers, shaking his head. "Can't say I understand it though. I mean, chickens? People's minds sure do work in strange ways."
"Don't I know it," Makoto said with a sigh, and began trudging back toward the house with two carriers of clucking birds tucked under his arms.
The people were definitely weirder than the animals in this one.
Emiko rolled her eyes at him. "Well, obviously they do, or no one would keep them. But yeah, it's sort of a fad around here lately. Chickens lay eggs, after all."
He snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything else. This wasn't exactly the nicest part of the city, so that made sense. Still...!
"I suppose that...makes sense," he said after a second. "It's not the weirdest pet I've ever heard of, just...you don't expect someone to keep livestock in their backyard."
"If it helps, I had the same reaction as you when I first heard," she said, "but these people get as attached to their birds as anyone would to any other pet, I guess."
It was the mid-afternoon, which was considered lull time before the evening crowd got into the bar. Typically, the waitresses didn't mind him hanging around then, especially if there were heavy things to be moved. They had even been somewhat astonished at the weight he could lift when he had helped with a shipment of wine crates they'd gotten while he was there. Which he'd felt wasn't entirely fair, at the time, since it was doubtful they'd have been so surprised he could easily lift one of those if he had been half a foot taller, but oh well.
"I've never had a pet, so I wouldn't know," he said honestly. "But I suppose it doesn't matter. Did your customers mention how their chickens got out? Presuming they fenced them in properly in the first place."
"Oh, they did," she said dismissively. "You have to put chicken wire up around their enclosures. It prevents birds of prey from getting at them. Believe me, I know more about this than I'll ever use," she said to his incredulous look. "But well, their five year old left the latch on the gate open and the chickens wandered out. They're obviously very upset about this, and asked if I could ask 'that ninja who rescued the kittens' to look for them."
"Two entirely different things," he said flatly, thinking of the fact that he hadn't actually had to go looking around most of a city for the kittens; they had simply been under the bar when he had expected a far worse animal.
She gave him a funny look. "Do you not like birds or something?"
Makoto nearly choked on his glass of lemon water. Coughing and sputtering, he waved off her concern while he got himself under control.
Breathe, Makoto.
"Sorry," he managed, between gulps of air. "That was funny for a reason you wouldn't get. No, I like birds fine. I mean that going looking for things is very different from getting things out from under a building."
"I guess," she said, still eying him oddly. Had she never seen someone laugh in the middle of drinking something before, or was it just that she hadn't ever seen him laugh before? Probably the latter; it wasn't something he did very often.
Concerning for a multitude of reasons, but none that I currently expect you to understand. There was a bit of a sigh implicit in the phoenix's mental 'voice'.
Just because I don't bray like a jackal when I find something funny doesn't mean I have no sense of humour, he shot back at it, ignoring the increase in exasperation he could detect. No point analyzing it now.
"So where do these people live, and how many chickens of theirs do I need to bring back to them?" he said, trying to steer the topic back to something that seemed more relevant.
"You're going to need those coops again," she said frankly before telling him.
~
He ended up getting a hold of the cages he'd used to bring in the yeowler cats before from local law enforcement, though they had given him a few odd looks when he'd explained why he wanted them this time. At least they hadn't given him any trouble over it. Several chickens could fit in each one of them, which was good as he apparently had to retrieve ten of the birds. Of the couple's baker's dozen of chickens, only three of them hadn't wandered out. Fortunately this included their two roosters so he only had to deal with rounding up hens, but still.
"It would be really nice while I was looking for birds if I could still fly," he grumbled under his breath as he hefted the two carriers. He knew he must look a little odd carrying the things, given their size compared to his, and once again cursed his brothers for stealing all the height.
I am sorry that our merger rendered your temporary wings decorative rather than functional, the phoenix said. I did not forsee that happening. But chickens cannot fly very well, so I don't anticipate this being too much of a problem.
"Still easier to look for things from the air," he muttered. "There's no way I can hide you from sight, is there? Active Camo jutsu or something?"
That would not work. I am too bright, and you know it does not work that well on moving things. It sounded patient, but seemed to have reverted to teacher mode. I am afraid you will have to do this yourself. What exactly do you have against chickens?
Nothing, really, he said, remembering finally to speak mentally now that he had made it out into the streets and started getting odd looks as it was. I'm just not in a great mood right now. The letter, and all.
We could still discuss options for things in it, if you prefer.
I'd prefer not to think of most of it, he thought back, fiercely enough that it felt startled in response to the intensity of that. Sorry. Yes, some of it I can deal with. I'll meet with the Kazekage. But the rest I don't want to think about. And I definitely don't know how to explain in my response letter about Miki.
Would simply mentioning it not suffice?
Mentioning it how, exactly? he demanded. Do I just write back and said, hello mother, all is well except that I accidentally a little sister, please help?
...Perhaps with a bit more tact than that...
If I use tact, she'll think I'm hiding something important. I will be, because I don't want it in a letter, but she'll think I'm hiding it from her. Which I won't, when we get back.
I am not sure I am the best equipped to ask about this, the phoenix said after a moment, sounding subdued. Your family is quite unlike any I have ever encountered before.
I can't tell whether you think that's a good thing or not. When it seemed to very deliberately not reply to that, he scowled and turned all of his attention outward. Sure, there were a few drawbacks here and there, but no family was perfect. What was wrong with his?
Probably fortunately, just before either one of them could say something they'd both regret later, he was distracted by soft clucking sounds coming from off in a side alley. Turning, he was rewarded with the sight of three chickens, looking as lost as it was possible for chickens to look and pecking at the ground occasionally.
Rounding them up proved to be much less easy. Gambling on them not wanting to run out into the foot traffic of the main road, he set the carriers both down, opened the doors on them, and jumped over the chickens, landing solidly on the other side of them. With his speed, he was able to nab one under each arm before any of them knew what was going on. The third one made alarmed clucking noises and started trying to waddle away, flapping its wings ineffectually and not clearing more than a few inches off the ground.
He pushed the two into one of the large carriers before picking up the third one and putting it away there as well, then shutting the carrier and debating what to do next.
I think I'll take them to the house, leave them there with the couple, then head back out and look for the rest, he decided. He also didn't think he was going to call Hitomi in; there was every chance she'd think the birds looked tasty and decide to become an eagle and eat them, and he didn't relish explaining that one.
On the way there, he encountered another pair of hens. Halfway done with minimal effort wasn't that bad, but then again, of course most of them weren't going to have gotten all that far. These two were duly shooed into the other carrier.
He was, however, attracting an awful lot of looks for carrying two carriers of clucking chickens around the streets of Soon's Haven. Oh well.
It's a shame I can't just produce a larger, more obedient chicken and have them follow it instinctually. Don't chickens do that?
I believe that's ducks, actually.
Damn. Oh well.
Apparently the couple Emiko had told him about were expecting him, so either they thought he was that reliable or she'd alerted them somehow. The woman there greeted him and cooed at the chickens, taking them one at a time from the carriers and bringing them into the small house.
"I'll get them all settled back at home before bringing them out to the rest of the flock at once," she explained. "I imagine they were only confused when they wandered off! Poor things."
Makoto neglected to comment on the intelligence of chickens. "Right. I'll track down the rest of them, then. There's five more, isn't there?"
"Yes, five more," she said. "They're quite social, for birds, so they're probably not too far from each other."
'For birds.' Does she even know how social birds are?
You're not even really a bird; stop getting offended for them.
So he set back out into the city with two empty carriers, once again hunting chickens. He tried not to think about how surreal that phrase was and failed.
Two more were some blocks over from the house, both pecking at a piece of garbage, as if thinking it was food. Truly, the mental giants of the avian world.
"Give me a good crow or raven any day over these things," he muttered, herding them into a carrier. They protested with clucking noises, but ultimately didn't offer any meaningful resistance to their imprisonment. "Only good thing I can say is they're probably smarter than seagulls and pigeons."
Not that that was hard, really. Woe betide any bird that was somehow dumber than a pigeon. Though if chickens weren't useful for their eggs, maybe there wouldn't be any chickens left in the world.
His bad mood was definitely showing again in his thoughts.
He found two of the last three chickens milling around an alley looking forlorn and trying to stay away from people. He was actually somewhat surprised he'd found this many alive what with all the rabid catlike demon creatures running around this country that would no doubt love to find chickens in their path, but there were things to be said for both luck and hanging near human populations. Plus those pseudo cats were more populous in Sand itself, anyway.
He was skirting the market when one of the salespeople accosted him. "Looking for chickens?" he asked, indicating the carriers.
"They're not mine, but yes," he said. "Have you seen the last one? It would have shown up some time yesterday at the earliest."
He gave the birds already captured an eye. "I found one that breed pecking around here yesterday. That's probably it. They'll recognize each other."
Riiight.
He led Makoto over to a stall in the back, a difficult proposition while he was holding the carriers. In cages behind the table there were various fauna, most of which looked like pets. There were a few dogs and cats, but mostly warm-weather animals like lizards and snakes...and one chicken, the same mottled grey and brown as the ones in the carriers.
Feeling stupid, he held one of the carriers in front of the cage when directed to, and the one in its own cage perked up and started clucking at the others. Not in an aggressive way, but a friendly one. As far as he could tell, anyway.
"How much?" he asked, but the salesman waved him off.
"I was just holding her for whoever came to pick her up," he said. "Let me just pop her in there with her friends and you can be on your way. Do you have them all?"
"I should," he said. "You seem rather accustomed to this. I take it you've seen this whole backyard chickens thing before?"
"Seen it?" the merchant asked. "Heck, I've sold some. Got a new stock coming in soon for some people who ordered them. There you go," he added as he closed the carriers, shaking his head. "Can't say I understand it though. I mean, chickens? People's minds sure do work in strange ways."
"Don't I know it," Makoto said with a sigh, and began trudging back toward the house with two carriers of clucking birds tucked under his arms.
The people were definitely weirder than the animals in this one.