"Milord?"

  "Come in Marcus, come in. What brings you here today?"

  "Ah a stoat got into the chicken coop last night Milord." Ethan gave the Farmer a confused glance. Why was he hearing about it? It was certainly not a good thing with how tight their food supply might get, but neither was it something that needed his personal attention… Unless.

  "The Rift-born ones? The tier 1 chickens?"

  "Yes Milord."

  Shit. "Must have been a mess."

  "Oh, that it was Milord. That it was. Guts, fur and feathers all over the pen. Not a pleasant sight."

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  Golden omelets and tiered risen bread… Well, it was a nice dream while it lasted.

  "Well, do you want me to put a bounty on stoats then?"

  "I'd not complain Milord, but it wasn't why I'm here. Can I keep it? Make a nice scarf for my Martha it would."

  "A chicken scarf?"

  "Wha'? No, of course not Milord. The chickens are yourn. I knows that."

  "Then what?"

  "The stoat sir."

  "You caught it?"

  "Caught, no milord."

  "Then..."

  "Oh, it was dead when I came to feed them in the morning Milord, its guts spread across the pen."

  What? "The chicken...?"

  "Oh, aye Milord. The cock, he's right savage he is. Have to be mortal careful when feeding him."

  Ethan’s mouth moved a few times. Then at last he leaned back and laughed.

  "Ha. Hahahaha. Ha. Oh, thank you Master Marcus."

  "I, ah, I didn't do noffin Milord." The man stuttered, looking a trifle worried.

  "Oh but you did. You did! You brought light to my morning. And a reminder not to overlook even the seemingly most humble of creatures. You may indeed keep the stoat, Master Farmer. You may indeed, and my best wishes to your Martha. A chicken?! Ha!"

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