“Captain Bell, why, it is so good to see you again!” Freya said. He wore a more traditional traveler's garb today, brown robes with no accouterments of rank. Most Rabbits who could afford to field a company of Soldiers took great care to show off their privilege, especially when those Soldiers were scouts, notorious within the coalition for their tendency to brag. They drank their way around the far reaches of the woods, spending their allotments like water, but they had the hardest work, at least according to Lady Raina.

That Freya remembered why and how aristocratic officers raised the money to throw away on these foolish expenditures was a testament to how much she wanted Holly and Abigail to succeed in finding a match. It made little difference to her; she would only marry for love, if at all.. At least that was what winning had meant to her at the start.

Captain Bell nodded, attempting to bow to her without taking his eyes off of Iron Beak as the great creature sized him up.

[Him, strong rabbit. Tiny, but strong. Me like.]

Iron Beak’s voice felt warm in the back of her mind, like bounding across a field beneath the sun. It was getting easier to understand him, she realized, taking less effort for her to hold on to their connection.

“If I might ask, Miss Uki, is this part of your usual activities?” Captain Bell said.

“This is a first for me,” she admitted. “I’ve convinced the chickens that it’s a great exercise to run with a mouse rider.”

The tall brown rabbit stepped cautiously around the beast, pausing to inspect the jury-rigged whip handle Freya was using.

“This is very interesting, Miss Uki, but I’ve never heard of anyone convincing a chicken of doing… well, anything,” he said. “May I… pet your chicken?”

“Iron Beak, would you allow the good Captain a chance to pet you?”

Iron Beak grunted some sort of acceptance.

Captain Bell seemed to understand this instinctively. He pressed his paws onto the lowered head, ruffling it just so. It made Freya think that he’d done this before, maybe to a Sparrow? That didn’t make sense.

It was well known that matches between rabbits and birds did not foster children, rare that they were. Freya didn’t understand why that was different to rabbit and mouse matches that produced somewhat equal amounts of mouse and rabbit offspring.

The Captain ceased his ruffling.“I know a wonderful bird-feather dresser who came to me highly recommended as a former Aviary builder. He used to create amazing nests and now he does great feather work. I could bring him in and have him take a look at this. I don’t know much about feathers, but I think that some of these need to be trimmed or something?” He looked aghast for a moment. “Do they molt? I’m not even sure. I only know what little I know from the Aviary that I’ve worked with.”

Freya wondered if she could pick his mind while he was here. He’d worked with birds, after all, though members of the Aviary were a far cry from beasts like chickens.

“But enough about me. Tell me, Miss Uki, what is your price for a ride on one of these chickens?” he said.

“For you? A favor to be named later,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips.

Grandpaw came up with a second whip.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I’ve got another one if you think that you can tame young Freya,” he said to the Captain. “And by young Freya of course I mean the chicken that has decided to name herself after my granddaughter.”Grandpaw briefly showed Captain Bell the looping knot that he’d used. Freya the chicken came up behind Iron Beak, watching all of this.

“I’ll have to admit that sounds like it would be confusing,” Captain Bell said, eyeing chicken-Freya warily. He stood stock-still as she strutted around him in a circle.

[Little mouse want me have rider too?] she clucked. [Me have iron rabbit for rider? Carry?]

“I should let you know that Freya the chicken has given you the nickname of ‘Iron Rabbit’, Captain Bell. I hope that you can live up to such a designation. Also, I must have your promise to not tell anyone about me speaking to these chickens”

“You have my word on that. I would not want to have cross words with the druids.”

Grandpaw had Captain Bell test the knot twice and demonstrate it before he allowed him to mount. Freya the chicken stopped strutting.

“Is he heavy like iron?” Freya asked.

[Iron rabbit wrong word. This one? Fluffy rabbit because weigh so little. Fur makes me think he heavy.] The chicken clucked in a way that sounded like laughter.

“I think that she’s making fun of me,” Captain Bell said, settling in.

Iron Beak led the four of them towards the road, Freya sat in his saddle. Grandpaw waved as they departed.

“She is. She called you fluffy because she expected you to be heavy and you are not. I hope you’re not too self-conscious about that, Captain Fluffy.” With a click of her tongue, Iron Beak and Freya darted ahead.

Captain Bell held on for dear life as Freya the chicken took off after her mate.

The chickens slowed after a while, and Freya and Captain Bell were able to talk. Ambling towards Holly’s house, Freya tried to direct Iron Beak to walk a bit closer to their visitor, while still staying on the road.

“Freya, if you can get these beasts to work, the implications could be incredible!”

Captain Bell had been floating ideas to her, trying to see if the chickens would wear armor—a definite no– or allow a saddle,a definite maybe.

“You know we’ve talked a lot about these chickens, Captain Bell, and how you think that they could be useful, but you haven’t asked me any questions about myself or my family. It makes a lady think that you’ve got all your eggs in one chicken basket.”

She gave him a demure look, probing his defenses.

“Miss Uki, are you trying to get at my intentions? They are pure, if business could be said to be pure. I would like to see if this is a viable service that you could provide. Imagine my scouts, traveling via these beasts. You say that they can go for miles and miles, correct?”

Freya nodded, patting absently at the feathers on Iron Beak’s neck. She was relieved that the chickens were following along with her requests.

“At least they say that they can.”

They rode on in companionable silence for a minute.

“I won’t be the first gentleman caller to drop in on you, though your choice of a chaperone is quite off. I have to say that you will likely have no shortage of prestigious mice visiting you this week. It should be an interesting time deciding who to allow to stay and speak with you. I’ll bet you that one or two have arrived in the time since we’ve been on this ride.”

Holly and Abigail had long since learned never to use that phrase with Freya. “And what are we betting for, Captain?”

“If I win? I want the right of first refusal of whatever sale or lease of these beasts you decide to go through with. If you win, name your price.”

Freya pondered this, remembering what Holly had said she wanted. True, she’d been pressed into answering, but Freya was good to her word. If this Captain wasn’t interested in courting Freya, then perhaps he would see fit to promenade with her.

“If I win, then you shall owe me one favor.”

“That is something I can agree with. I can’t shake your hand from here but I stand by my word as a gentleman and as an Officer of the coalition. Provided that the favor is reasonable.”

“As you say,” Freya said. “Well while we’re on the topic of bets, how do you feel about my friend Miss Holly Bun?”

Freya wasn’t certain, but it seemed that Captain Bell had something caught in his throat at just that moment.