I don't understand. Everyone else writes about their past. I'm here to talk about the present. My name is Shadow and I am part of the 2025 generation. New Year, new things to learn about, they say, and I have learned something. The roof outside in the run is not secure. I can fly in and out. So I am pretty much standing out side the coop doors and I can see what is beyond chicken wire. I am pretty awed by the fantastic sight of deep snow, chilly winds, and or course, smoke coming out of the big black boiler behind Mother Hen's coop. Her coop is not like mine. She has more windows to see out of, and the coop has a door. The snow is deeper than I thought. We had a snowstorm yesterday night. So much snow got inside the coop because of repelling winds. I take a step; it's not that bad. I stretched out and catch the bone cold air in my white and black wings. Oh, I am a White Easter Egger by the way. Smallest in the group. I lay blue-green legs and I am the most pretty in the flock. At least I think so. My biological sister, Coco is a Brown Easter Egger that lays even bluer eggs than me. She even has a muff, a fluffy cluster of cheek feathers. I have a flat face. When I got in the Rainbow Flock, I was the weakest and most useless one. Now, I am the new assistant sentinel of the flock. That's all. Back to the present! My flight ends short though. Since I am a chicken, I don't fly far. But I was able to catch a glimpse of the Gray Barn. Legend says that a ghost, the form of a coyote at most times haunts the building. It's probably in search for food, because Mother Hen mentions that food rations are low. I fall straight into the wet snow. It instantly freezes my skinny legs. One of my wings flops over my face. I tried running in the snow, but it's so thick and heavy I can't move. Finally, I manage to flap my wings fast enough to loosen some snow. I ended up digging a small ramp to walk out of. The White Plains are so big. I can see smoke coming out of the barn, meaning that Mother Hen is in there, probably cooking us some feed porridge. It's the best. As I inhale the warm scent of feed, I trotted towards the barn with small flaps in between. Once I got to the driveway, It became so much easier to walk on a flat, plowed surface. The aroma finally led me to the barn. I froze in my tracks. I could hear a scratching sound coming from the inside. Isn't Mother Hen in there? It should be fine, isn't it? I heard slow steps into the barn. I took a peek around the corner and was horrified at what I saw. The slide door had the slightest gap, big enough for a human to crawl under. Also large enough for a coyote to just walk in and not have a care of the world. "I can smell you," a quiet voice rang in my head. "Who are you?" I replied. "I think you do know who I am." the voice boomed. "Are you the infamous coyote ghost?" "Indeed...I am," it chuckled. I felt a cold shiver run down my wings. It knew I was only a few feet from certain death. "You do know that chicken, especially raw, is my favorite meal? I can taste your defeat right in my jaws. Although, you don't happen to have a rooster in your silly flock do you?" Rosie told me that the generation before Lavender and the others, a stunning, handsome rooster had served the flock. He was named River, thought to be hen until late winter. She said his pride was too strong, it attacked anything that seemed to be a threat, like Mother Hen. She said she had never been more in love. He seemed to be a charming, kind, and strong mate. His pride just got ahead of him. The next summer, he sacrificed his life for Rosie's. It was a butchering day, and every rooster in the flock had to be finished. Rosie, Sunseed, and Soap cried more than ever. He seemed to be so nice, I sometimes wish I had a flock mate too.
