Freya scarfed down breakfast the next morning, still buoyed by the success of the ball. It was a beautiful day, and she changed into her working clothes in a hurry, eager to see the chickens. “Don’t forget suitors could be calling today,” Grandpaw called, as she rushed out to the pens.

She sat perched at Iron Beak’s side, carefully shifting through his massive feathers. He had extended a wing to her when she arrived, clucking softly until she spotted the fleas.

It was repetitive work. Freya concentrated hard, remembering how she spoke to the cockroaches. Inhale, exhale, and then she focused on being able to understand the chicken.

Iron Beak sat there quietly, in a sort of meditative trance. “Iron Beak?” she asked. It was supposed to sound authoritative, but came across more like a puppet in a traveling vagabond show.

The chicken cocked its head at her.

“I want to speak to you so you can understand me.” She breathed in, and then it felt like she’d walked all the way down to Holly’s and back in an instant. And there it was in the back of her mind, a sense of connection, of understanding.

[Iron Beak big strong, how you like little mouse? You attack small bugs from wing, Iron Beak can eat?]

“Yes, you can eat the little bugs,” she said, watching for a reaction. Did the chickens understand her when she spoke?

[Put bugs here, little mouse, me eating. Also give other Freya.]

Iron Beak leaned his giant neck towards an empty water bucket. Freya obliged, scooping the fleas she’d already removed into the pail, and chicken-Freya joined them with a cluck of interest.

“Iron Beak, I’ve been thinking. There’s something that I want to do,” Freya said.

[What do, little mouse?]

Freya the chicken started to grab the little bugs one by one, making a game of tossing them into the air and then catching them up high.

“Could I… could I ride one of you?”

At this, both of them looked at her sideways. A flea evaded chicken-Freya’s grasp and made a run for it, perhaps sensing this was its last chance for escape.. Iron Beak scooped it up quickly, to the consternation of his partner.

[What meaning ride?]

[Yes, what meaning, ride?] Freya the chicken joined in.

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Freya tried to form a picture of it in her mind.

“Um… like carry on back a bit?” Freya said, trying to match the chickens’ way of speaking.

The two chickens looked at each other.

[Me fine with this, little mouse like nothing. We go when? Where?] Iron Beak said.

“I was thinking of visiting my friend Holly,” Freya said. “Riding one of you would make it easy and maybe… we could pick her up, too?”

Freya prayed that it wouldn't be overreaching. She felt like there was a lot of goodwill between the three of them and didn’t want to spoil it.

[We consider,] Freya the chicken said, nuzzling Iron Beak.

Riding was incredible.

The wind flattened Freya’s whiskers to her face as Iron Beak ran.. There hadn’t been room to really run in the pens, so Freya had convinced Grandpaw to let them out onto the family estate.

Grandpaw had made her do one thing before she got the ride of her life, though: he made a loop around Iron Beak's neck with a whip and tied off the end for Freya to hold.

This will be easier, he’d told her. Easier? Easier than what, Freya had thought. But now she was holding on for dear life as Iron Beak tore across the grounds like he was trying to take off. Grandpaw watched in awe. Iron Beak seemed to anticipate her commands, turning and leaping at the barest tug on the reins..

Cluck, cluck.

Iron Beak sprinted over the burrow.

Jump.

Wings outstretched, he glided briefly before catching himself.

Sprint.

It took a moment to get the hang of it, but she realized quickly that it was a smoother ride if she leaned into his movements, instead of fighting to stay still on his back.

I love it when a plan just falls into place, Freya thought.

She’d been at it half an hour when Grandpaw flagged her down from across the way. With just a nudge, Iron Beak began trotting the right direction.

Freya could see Grandpaw standing apart from the entrance. Something about him was off today. Was he standing up straighter? Freya tensed. He was trying to look tall, which probably meant guests that he cared to impress—and who would Grandpaw intend to impress? Freya's heartbeat threatened to drown out the world.

“Oh, Freya? Did you forget that you were going to have a caller show up today?” he said.

I never expected anyone to actually show up to call on me, Freya thought, now I’m going to have to actually talk to someone one on one without my friends with me? I was hoping that someone would show up for me, but I never expected something like this. I hope it’s one of the ones I wanted to see again. Lady Raina said that I should be gracious to the ones that show up even if I am not interested, but I’m not to lead him on.

The voice in the back of her head made a grunting sound of agreement.

And now I’m talking to myself. Hoo mousey.

Freya pulled Iron Beak to a stop. All of a sudden she was breathing fast, trying to pass it off as the exertion of riding.

As a familiar set of smoothly trimmed ears popped out of the entrance, the gated entry door gave way to a pair of cold blue eyes. Freya's current conundrum had arrived.