Cynthae took one look at the potion and knew there was no way the two baby chicks could pop the cork out, and there was no guarantee that that would help anyway. Chirping at Terell, she pointed up to the hens with one wing. Her husband took her lead, hopping over to the edge of the shed.
As it turns out, hopping a foot off the ground was too far for a chick. Still, with a running start, they could hop half of the way. Terell started grabbing hay strewn about the floor and moving it over next to one of the hens - Henrietta, their nicest hen, and Cynthae got to work alongside. The hay curled and lay in a growing pile until the two chicks were panting. The hay piled up just a little more than 6 inches.
But when they tried to jump, the hay crumpled beneath their weight. It wasn't going to work!
Cynthae tried desperately to get Henrietta or the other hens to notice them on the ground, chirping like she'd heard the babies in the incubator. Terell helped too, but the chickens were either fast asleep, or didn't care about chicks that weren't their own. Terell shrugged and pointed with his beak toward the open door.
Cynthae shook her head.
Terell pointed again, then glanced around the hen house. There just wasn't another option.
Slowly, carefully, the two hopped over to the front door, peering through to check for any dangers. Terell knew they'd never get into their own house, so he pointed his little, fluffy yellow wing over to the Husby's house. Even further to go, but the Husby's should be home, and they were on very friendly terms - they'd know what to do with any stray baby chicks. He hopped toward the door, but Cynthae bounced in front of him, blocking him.
She was trembling, from the cold or from fear, he didn't know. Cynthae glanced around again, peering across the yard with her weak, black eyes. No cats, no racoons. It was too early in the day for owls. She wracked her brain for possible dangers. She peered up at the sky, but she couldn't see that far. Everything got blurry more than ten feet away.
Terell nodded, but pointed again, and hopped out the door.
She hopped next to him, cuddling against her husband before she nodded, and like that, they were off! The cold chicks could still move their legs, but the yard was immense. Each blade of grass acted as a springboard for the small couple as they hopped. Cynthae ran slightly behind her husband, keeping her eyes focused on the big, white blur that she knew was the Husby's house. They rounded their own yard, and for once, the young woman had a glimmer of hope.
Until they ran into a wall of grass. The Husby's yard was like a bramble of vines. They hadn't mowed in weeks, and what had been a minor violation of the neighborhood's Homeowner's Association was now a jungle skyscraping over the chicks themselves. Terell paused, before plunging onto the top of the green canopy. Thankfully, the grass was firm and dry, and supported his weight.
Cynthae hopped up, too, and they had to pick their way through the towering stalks. The going was slow - too slow. Perhaps worst of all, the pace gave her time to think about all the dangers that were lurking above and below. She'd felt so much more confident when she could focus on moving forward and nothing else.
Terell was making good ground, when Cynthae chirped in warning. The entire forest seemed to be warping beneath them, blades of grass bending and weaving. Peering down, she caught a glimpse into the inky depths that made her jump, narrowly avoiding the impossibly fast strike as a head half her size launched up out of the grass. She saw a flash of yellow scales, and her heart stopped. Like straight out of the movie Anaconda, the yellow-striped Garter snake coiled out of the grass and launched straight for Terell.
Terell never saw it coming. By the time he squawked in protest, the snake had closed its mouth around his yellow-feathered wing. Cynthae screeched and hopped toward the huge creature's head. Though the snake's maw was comparatively the size of a Grizzly Bear, its body was as long as two semi trucks. There was no way her weight could overpower the monster.
But her beak was sharp. She went straight for the head, pecking as hard as she could against its iron scales. Still, it seemed impervious, and Cynthae could only watch as the snake opened its maw and launched forward, gulping Terell's entire wing while he struggled. She never would have believed it if she hadn't seen it first hand, but the snake had no trouble stretching its mouth over the wide chick.
Terell kicked his legs and chirped and fluttered his free wing, but he could never get an angle of attack or escape on his own. Cynthae soon realized that her own efforts were barely phasing the gigantic predator. If she kept up, she'd watch helplessly as the Garter snake devoured her husband alive, only for the creature to turn on her next. Terell was already lodged sideways, half-way inside the snake's mouth.
The potion.
What had seemed like an impossible long shot was now her only hope. Cynthae chirped, and ran, hopped, fluttered back toward the coop. Maybe Terell had replaced the cork loosely. Maybe her frantic need would fuel enough adrenaline to allow the cap to pop off. Whatever happened, she needed to turn back to normal, and she needed to do it now. Every second that passed was another second her husband didn't have. Once big, she was sure she could find the snake and free Terell, and even if it had swallowed him, she'd still have a better chance that way.
She was halfway across the yard when a gush of wind struck her ears. By the time she could fathom what had just happened, the whole world turned into one giant blur. A sharp pain dug into her side, and she tilted her head around like only a bird could do to see the only thing that still existed - a hawk, appearing out of nowhere, scooping her up with a surprising gentleness and rocketing her away from the ground!
No, no, no, no! she squawked, glancing back down to see the green and brown blur of the ground fading away beneath her. Wind whistled past her head as the predator carried her away. It might have only been a block from her house, but she was what felt like a thousand miles from where her husband fought for his life in the jaws of a snake.
That's when she realized why she was in so much pain. The hawk's talons squeezed around her yellow body, but one claw the size of a traffic cone was piercing her gut. Red blood dripped down, lost immediately in the blur of wind as the hawk beat its wings, effortlessly carrying its small meal. Oh, God - I'd better worry about myself for now. I'll rescue Terell after.
In seconds, the trip had ended. With a flutter of feathers, the enormous, three-story raptor dropped Cynthae into a snarl of twigs and leaves that could only be the beast's nest. Thankfully, there were only eggs in the nest, instead of vicious, bear-sized chicks. Not that that put Cynthae in too great a spot. The hawk held the small chick in one talon before screeching like a dinosaur from Jurassic Park, and the young woman finally realized that she wasn't going to be getting out of this one.
