Chickens Excellent Adventure Solo Completed

Why did the chicken cross the road? The world may never know. But what the world does know- well, what the current babysitter of Chicken knew, was that Chicken was no chicken at all. Therefore the little joke was obsolete. Chicken was... well, Xailah had no idea what Chicken actually was. All she knew was that she was now stuck with him, as the result of either a cruel joke, or a fever dream. She hoped it was the latter of the two options, since dreams could be forgotten with enough effort, and wacks to the head. Mean jokes could be forgotten too with time, but remnants always seemed to fester within the deepest cavities of the mind- so, they couldn't be completely forgotten.

Chicken was in the care of Xailah now. And she was going to try her darnedest to enjoy the rest of her day, while he was in her care. In truth, the metamorph was thankful, that she was not stuck hosting for an actual person. She wasn't really a stuffed animal person, let alone a people person. The majority of the people who went to the school were incompetent anyway, so she supposed she was quite lucky that she ended up accompanying a fake animal. Even if it did sound rather pathetic. But she didn't care, she wasn't having to listen to complaints from clients, since her client could not speak. Thank god.

With Schrödinger flung over her shoulder, the prefect looked a bit wilder than usual. Her dark, chestnut locks, writhed in discontentment, as the trio made their way down to the lake. Why the lake, you may ask? She had no clue, it just seemed like a nice spot, especially since it was usually void of people during this time of day. Occasionally the prefect would stumble upon one or two students trying to ditch class, but a simple glare in their direction sent them back to potions with their tail tucked. The things a simple look could do. Or maybe they just saw her with the stuffed animal- which if that was the case, she couldn't blame them for running.

The lioness had never been too fond of stuffed animals. Mostly because she disliked things with small, glass-like eyes. If she couldn't see the mind that was keeping the light behind the eyes burning, then she didn't like the eyes or their possessors. Eyes like that belonged to things that weren't quite dead, but not quite living either. Eyes liked that, lived in limbo. Xailah would find her way to her usual spot of choice, whenever she visited the lake. It was a nice grassy area, that was sheltered by the shade of a large tree. Xailah had ventured to this exact spot many times in the past, so it was practically her spot now.

Well, now what? She successfully made it to the lake, with Chicken still in one piece, so what was there to do now? The third year glanced around, setting Schrödinger down, as she did so. What were you even supposed to do with stuffed animals like this one? Chicken was too big to play with, or dress up in doll clothes, so what exactly was his purpose? Perhaps Chicken was simply an oddly shaped pillow? She was unsure, but Schrödinger evidently did not like the stuffie. He hissed at the thing, and tried to pull it out of his mistresses grasp. "Schrödinger, its okay, he's not hurting me." Physically at least. Chickens splattering of color, was a little hard on the eyes, but that was about it.

No matter how hard she tugged, or shook the bundle of fabric, and stuffing; she couldn't get Schrödinger to let go. So, she dropped Chicken, so he could fend for himself, while the prefect looked for something to do. Stumbling upon a pile of sticks, a wonderful idea would plant itself into the Gryffindors head. Why, she could make a raft for Chicken! After all, the weather was wonderful for sailing! She thought it was at least. She had never been sailing, but if she had, this was the weather she would have wanted to go sailing in.

When it came to building things, that were not relationships, Xailah was actually quite skilled. Her slender fingers, and unmatched hand-eye coordination, allowed her to work efficiently. She used what was around her to make Chickens luxury yacht- reeds, sticks, and a old shoelace that had been separated from its shoe. Tragic. "Schrödinger, I need to borrow Chicken for a moment, he has somewhere to sail to." She said, stooping to wrestle the stuffie away from the cat.

"Monsieur Chicken, your transportation has arrived." She announced, in a rather posh manner. "Your destination is...The Hawaii." She nodded. "I've heard that The Hawaii is a nice place, but its in the muggle world, so I will never get to see it- but maybe when you return, you can tell me all about it." The metamorph mused hopefully, as she placed Chicken on the DIY raft, and lowered him into the murky depths of the lake. She would then pull a silky square of cloth from the inside of her coat.

"Bon voyage, Monsieur Chicken!" She waved at him with her hankercheif, the small bit of fabric blown back by the wind. The metamorph would watch the makeshift vessel, that carried the stuffed alpaca, drift towards the sunset. Off, off, and away. After a moment, he was nothing more than a little black silhouette. The dumb smile she had been wearing, was replaced with panic, as she noticed he was getting farther out. "Monsieur- Monsieur Chicken!" She called out to the small stuffie. "I think you're drifting out too far now-" The little raft bobbed for a second, before drifting back around- almost as if it had heard her warning.

A sigh escaped the brunettes lips. But her relief did not last long. "Oh thank-" A small wave- not even a wave, it was more of a ripple- a ripple, made contact with the raft. Because he lacked thumbs- or any didgits for that matter, Chicken was no match for the little disturbance. Off the raft he went, and into the water he did go. "Oh dear." Wonderful. That Hufflepuff had left her in possession of her beloved Chicken, and now he was going to...drown? "Uh- man overboard! Mooncalf overboard!"

She turned to her cat frantically, as if he was going to suddenly jump in and rescue the drowning crew member. "This is your fault, that vessel had no captain, now look what happened." Schrödinger looked up, and mewled as his lady scolded him. "Here hold this." The lioness peeled her coat off, and dumped it on top of the cat. Glancing up, she would see the last visible part of Chicken, go under the water. His head. His stupid little head. His stuffing absorbed as much lake water as it could, causing him to go under. That was the last time anyone would ever see Chicken-

Not smelling like pond-water anyways. To make a long, and painful story short, and less painful; Chicken was saved by the captain, and architect that originally set him up for failure- or success depending on how you look at things. Chicken would be safely returned to the noodly arms of his fiery-haired owner- not directly, but he would be left by the door to the Hufflepuff commons. So one could only hope and assume he made it into the arms of his badger owner. Like Xailah, Chicken never got to see The Hawaii, but he had an excellent adventure nonetheless.