The hill thrummed with motion. What had been a sleepy patch of flowers a week ago was now a waking, breathing training ground: rabbits doing weighted push-ups, chickens hopping with stones tied to their backs, snakes dragging rocks with vines, and the black lizard lumbered up the hill like a veteran gladiator with a bundle of logs strapped to its shoulders followed by other smaller lizards. The creatures moved with a purpose that had not existed before.
At the center of it all, the rooster paced slowly, eyes narrowed in proud approval like a commander inspecting his troops. Seven days had passed since his first rallying crow, seven days since he first told them to gather and prepare. They had all come because he had asked. The creatures had done as he commanded. Whether they fully understood his words or simply obeyed out of habit, it didn't matter. It was his job to protect them, yes but a wise boss also taught his subordinates how to protect themselves as well.
The new routine had settled into a comfortable, fierce rhythm: training from dawn until afternoon, rest in the cool of the evening, then light drills before sleep. The little white rabbits were no longer merely twitching noses and squabbling over a clover; they did push-ups with tiny weights strapped to their backs, tiny muscles bunching and unbunching with every strained movement. Chickens hopped on small mounds while rocks hugged their feathers. Snakes pulled rocks in slow, dignified s-curves. The black lizard, once content to loaf in sunlight, now hauled itself uphill with a practiced determination.
The rooster halted his inspection. He nodded approvingly and continued, each step a measured gait of confidence. This was his territory, and it was turning into something stronger under his watch.
He picked up a beakful of worms like a king choosing jewels for his queen and trotted toward the pond, heart set on the day's single goal: Today he would witness her eat in front of him. Yesterday she had still refused to take a single bite until he fell asleep. To his relief when he woke up the next day the pile of worms had gone "missing" proof she hadn't starved herself but had simply refused to eat in his presence. Today, however, he was determined: he would make this stubborn hen finally eat in front of him, by force if necessary!
At the top of the hill, the pond shimmered like a small polished mirror.
The rooster hopped across the pond, a bundle of freshly dug worms waggling at the edge of his beak. The sight that greeted him made his heart flutter in the best possible way. There she was sitting at the center like always, eyes closed, the ancient air of regality about her like a cloak.
He placed down the worms with the utmost ceremony and sat beside her, making up his mind to stay up all night if he had to. He would not leave. He would not blink. He would be patient. Today is the day he would watch her accept a worm right before his very beak.
The rooster puffed his chest and adjusted his posture, doing everything he could to look dignified and nonchalant.
Shivaya opened her eyes slowly. For a heartbeat, the two simply regarded each other: one full of eager expectation , the other a calm, unreadable pool. Her glance slid to the worms, and something subtle unfurled in her expression, a tremor like the hint of a storm and then.
Unbelievably something happened that made the rooster rethink its reality, he could not believe it as she gracefully rose to her feet. She approached, bent elegantly, and began to eat.
For a long breath, she simply ate. Her movements were delicate, purposeful, almost ritualistic. Her feathers remained immaculate. Her eyes glinted with a faint pleasure. She ate as if performing something grand and terrifying and perfectly ordinary all at once.
The rooster had expected reluctance, maybe even expecting her to stubbornly refuse again until late at night when hunger forced her beaks but not this calm, deliberate compliance.
Still even as the rooster's beak froze in mid-whiff. He couldn't help but scream internally 'FINALLY!' He rejoiced in his mind as the worms vanished with delicate, purposeful bites.
He felt his chest swell in a way that had nothing to do with pride or dominance. It was astonishment, affection, and relief. 'Does this mean she's finally forgiven me for whatever made her angry?' he thought happily.
Unbeknownst to him, the scene had not been as spontaneous as it looked.
…
The night before had been long and restless for Shivaya. The hill had quieted, the training ceased, and the creatures slumbered in their tired, satisfied heaps. Only she remained awake, a coiled shape of contained fury, stomach growling like a feral tiger.
She watched the rooster sleep, his chest rising, the little spasm of feathered contentment that crossed his beak. "'This stupid fool, how can he be so relaxed, so unguarded in my presence? Does he not see me as a threat at all?' she thought and for a heartbeat she had imagined plunging talons into his throat. That image was absurd and deliciously satisfying although something else throbbed, something she couldn't explain, an awkward, unnamed feeling. It made her chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.
With such an unfamiliar feeling making her uncomfortable she decided to forget about it, besides, killing him while he slept was impractical anyway, she was not sure if she could kill him before he would awake. She had noticed it, she was not the only one, he had also grown stronger.
And without her realizing she had also grown accustomed to his constant presence. Her vigilance, once absolute, had softened slightly, though she would never admit it, even if she realized.
"Why are there so few worms today?" she muttered to herself, creeping quietly toward the pile as if sneaking past a dragon. She tiptoed around the dim night, careful not to disturb the sleeping rooster. Every so often, she peeked at him, chest puffed in serene slumber, and let out a quiet sigh of relief. His eyes didn't open, her secret was safe. After all, her pride demanded it. One wrong move, one accidental nibble caught in the act, and a week of dignified refusal to eat in front of him would be ruined. Her reputation as a proper, untouchable hen (phoenix) could not survive such a scandal.
Turning her attention back to the worms, she groaned. Several holes dotted the soft earth where the fastest worms had already escaped back underground, leaving only the slowpokes behind.
Her stomach grumbled angrily, and she shot a sharp, grudging glare at the still-snoozing rooster. If he hadn't insisted on watching her eat all day, giving the worms plenty of time to wriggle away, she might not be facing a such near-empty feast tonight.
A small huff of frustration escaped her. 'I hope he's busy tomorrow so that I can eat my worms in peace', she thought.
At that moment, a single thought struck her like lightning and then a soothing balm, rationalization dressed as cold logic. 'Wait, Why do I even care what this rooster thinks of me?' she scolded herself sharply, glancing at her status panel
Name: Shivaya
Title: Boss Rooster's Most Beloved Hen
Race: Chicken
Tier: Middle Stage Common Creature
Body: F+
Mind: E+ (Limited by tiny chicken body)
Soul: E+
Path: None
Talent: Yet to awaken (90%)
Equipment: None
Bloodline: None
"Two days…In just two days I will awaken my talent. Two days and it will be the day when I can finally…kill him,' she thought as a shiver of involuntary reaction ran through her body, unnoticed as she immersed herself in the fantasy. Then, with cold logic, she concluded 'so what if he sees me eat? So what if he witnesses my image grumble? Dead rooster tells no tales!'
With that plan in mind, she ate.
She devoured the worms like one who had fasted a harsh winter. Each bite seemed amplified by hunger, a taste reminiscent of the divine nectar she had known in her past life. Tears absurdly oversized, pricked her eyes, not solely from sorrow but from the ridiculous relief of filling a belly empty for a whole day and night. She ate quickly, quietly, savoring the forbidden flavor, though the discomfort in her stomach lingered.
With a small defeated grumble she finally sat back in her usual spot, dissatisfied, stomach still protesting faintly as if telling her that she should find more worms to eat.
…
Back in the present, the rooster's expression softened beyond all dignity. His small, ridiculous chest swelled with a glorious, idiotic happiness as he watched her eat in front of him. "This meant she finally forgiven me right?"
With that thought he stepped closer, intending to nuzzle her with his beak.
Shivaya paused. Her eyes flicked toward him, and for a heartbeat, she stayed still. Then, deftly, she sidestepped before he could make contact.
"Hmph. Such greed! Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile," she muttered to herself disdainfully, glaring at the dejected rooster.
With a twitch of his beak the rooster relented although slightly disappointed. His goal had been achieved far sooner than expected. He settled beside her, eyes closing, letting his mind drift to strategies for keeping the players in check.
The hill breathed around them. Training continued below, a chorus of determination rising to the sky. Above it all, two very different beings sat together: one building an army, the other counting the days until the feathers tipped back in her favor.