sixthiterationlogs | 02 SNOW & CHICKENS

Entry tags:

02 SNOW & CHICKENS

WHO:Moana
WHERE: Inn & Fountain/Around & Near
WHEN: January 9th [Morning - Evening]
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Closed

Early Morning

Moana continued to try and get used to the cold. Nothing she tried worked but she was stubborn. Her toes curled beneath her blankets and she peeked out from under her covers with a grumpy stare. The jacket she'd been given was draped on top of her blankets but she found that no matter what she did she was never warm enough. With a groan she stood, pulled on more layers than she was comfortable with and walked from her room. She liked the inn; there were always people around and noises reverberating from the main room. It was the sort of noise she was used too and comfortable with. Some nights she almost believed that she was back at home though the feeling was always short lived.

She'd offer an awkward smile to anyone she made eye contact with. Things weren't great but she saw no reason to let it keep her down. At least that was the appearance that she was trying to keep up.

Late Morning

Moana grabbed something to eat and then rushed out of the inn like she'd done every morning since her arrival. What she didn't notice about this particular morning was a little chicken that had followed her from the inn.

Today she began to walk around the town. The snow and her boots made navigation difficult and Moana found herself stuck and flailing in a few snow drifts along the way. One thing she was beginning to notice about the snow, was the more she sat in it, the warmer she felt.

After her short walk around she paused outside the inn and inspected a particularly high drift of snow. She didn’t have many tools, nothing that could dig but she had hands and they had gloves on them. She began to push at the snow, build it up and create something of a wall around her; she then dug into the compacted snow, making something like a cave inside of it. Her hands were cold but the rest of her started to overheat as she worked. She ended up tossing her jacket off and eventually the long sleeve shirt she wore beneath it. This weather made no sense, how can she now be over heating when it’s so cold, Moana found it hard to attribute only to the work she was doing.

Afternoon

The snow was slowly melting as temperatures rose above freezing though Moana didn’t noticed. What she did notice was an unfamiliar chicken walking along the dugout paths. She watched it for a moment blinking. It couldn’t really get into too much trouble, the snow blocked most of its path, or so Moana reasoned. Except it was headed towards the fountain…

Imagines of Heihei flooded through her mine and she pushed herself from her little cave leaving her things behind. "Oh no!" When she caught up to the chicken it was just about to fall into the fountain and just like Heihei it didn’t seem like it knew how to swim. “Ah!” She dove for the chicken, pulling it from the fountain while just avoiding falling in. She placed the chicken on the edge of the fountain and exhaled. "Don’t do that!" Except then it took another step towards the water’s edge causing Moana to flail, fall in and then once again scoop the chicken from the fountain.

She was starting not to like this fountain.

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Rising early is never a problem for him, because Benedict shares a bed with Kate Kelly, who seems to be genetically predisposed to waking before the sun. It drives him a little bit crazy, because he rather likes having a leisurely lie-in, but it's no fun to lounge around in bed after Kate slips out of it, so he always finds himself following her into the pre-dawn light. For one thing, it tends to cool quickly without another body to help build up heat beneath the blankets.

Bundled up as best as he can, with his lovely new yellow bobble hat securely jammed over his ears, Benedict has gone through his routine mostly-asleep, from the stretches he does first thing all the way through collecting the eggs from Kate's chickens and setting the heavy iron kettle on the stove so he can make some tea in the hopes it will both warm him up and wake him up the rest of the way.

People usually start to trickle in to the kitchen around now, which is why he's not surprised to see someone appear in his periphery; he finishes pouring the cup of tea he'd started, and then takes down another. "Would you like some tea?" he asks over his shoulder, the kettle poised and ready.

Sansa was heading towards the inn when she noticed the high snow drift and a tiny bit of movement that truly drew her gaze. Slowing down with a curious frown, she waited until she saw another flash of movement that steered her off the path and towards the drift. It did cross her mind that she could be getting herself into a possibly dangerous situation but it was daytime and too close to the Inn for her to truly be worried. Yes, that most likely made her foolish but she didn't think too hard about that either.

Instead, she tilted her head before calling out softly. "Hello? Are you okay?"

"Me?" Moana asked looking a little confused. It shouldn't surprise her that someone is speaking to her but she didn't know many people here and the ones she did know, she didn't know very well. It wasn't like her island where she knew everyone and everyone knew here.

It was strange and she was slowly adjusting.

"Yes, thank you. What kind of tea is it?" Tea on her island was mostly used for the sick or the old. Right now she'd accept anything that was warm. Her eyes moved around the inn and before he could answer she added another quick question. "Is there anything to do around here? I want to help." Moana wasn't very good at being idle with her thoughts and the weather had her a little stumped when it came to finding ways to help out.

"Yes!"

Moana moved too quickly in her little burrow and accidentally bumped her head on the ceiling of snow. She felt a few pieces of cold glide down her back, sending a shiver through her spine. "Whoa." She pushed herself from her little hole finding that it was colder without the protective walls of the snow around her.

She shivered again and pulled her thick jacket back over her shoulders. It was more comfortable to wear as a cap.

"Hello." Moana smiled at Sansa, finding nothing strange in what she was doing.

Sansa's eyes widened slightly as the dark haired girl popped out in front of her, causing her to take half a step back in surprise before she paused and smiled a little in response. She could understand the cape bit since she was more comfortable in a cloak than her jacket but it was the jacket that she wore now.

"Hi." She said by way of greeting again now that she could see Moana. Then her look turned curious as she studied the mound of snow. "What are you doing, may I ask?"

Moana turned back and looked at her weird little cave. "I'm not really sure." She hadn't completely thought it out yet. "I noticed that it was warm when I fell in the snow. I wanted to see if I could make something that was warmer. Not that it'll be a good idea to sleep there but-"

She looked back at Sansa, tucking her dark hair behind one ear. "Well I've never seen snow before. I was learning a little bit about it. It doesn't just melt like I thought it would, even when it's warm. It's strange."

Snow has her confused.

Sonny's spent most of this particular day at the inn, helping in whatever ways he can. Whether that be with meal prep or washing dishes afterwards, or even keeping the fire alive to keep the place warm, he does it without complain. There's nothing he dislikes more than sitting idle, and if there's a chance for him to help, he'll do it without a second's thought.

He's just leaving for the day, ready to go home and brainstorm some plans for his work-in-progress church he's supposed to be starting. Honestly, he's not even sure where to begin with it. There's really nowhere to get pews. He could borrow couches and chairs from vacant houses, but what would they do when people wanted to move into them?

He's thinking, hands shoved deep in his pockets when he hears a splash. He looks up to see a young girl in the fountain, and at first, he thinks she's a new arrival. But then he recognizes her, not as someone he knows personally, but just as someone he's seen around the village. It is a relatively small village. She's holding a chicken, but that doesn't really explain why she's in the fountain.

"Are you alright?" He calls to her, approaching her in a worried sort of urgency. "You're going to freeze in there."

Moana looked up at the voice however her eyes kept glancing nervously back to the chicken that she was keeping away from the water's edge. She pulled herself out of the water with one hand, the other blocking the chicken's path. It definately looked like she's done this sort of thing before.

"Ah, yeah. I know. I just had to get the chicken... out..." She looked down at it before lifting it and placing it on the ground. She had no idea how it got up to the fountain but she hoped that it'd be content walking in circles around it instead. "Most chickens can't swim." She added, in case he didn't know that and she just looked completely crazy.

Moana rose to her feet, wringing out her long hair. She wasn't dressed for winter, her coat was back on the snow drift next to the inn from her antics earlier that day.

"They can't?" He didn't know that, in fact. He's not sure why he didn't know that, because it makes a lot of sense now that he thinks about it. It's not like they're very equipped for the water, physically speaking. And he's pretty sure most birds can't swim anyway.

At least, he wouldn't imagine they could.

"That was nice of you to save it," he says, offering a smile. He shrugs off his coat, just the simple one that they all arrived with, and holds it out to her. "Here, take this. Can't have the village's chicken protectors dying of frostbite."

"Yeah. They probably could but most chickens will panic when they're on water and it causes them to drown. If they don't get their down feathers wet they're able to float. Those are the feathers beneath the wing." Moana knew a lot about chickens and pigs and everything that was native to her island. It was part of her role there.

Chickens can float and probably kick their legs but Moana has never seen it. They usually have the good sense to stay away from the water.

"Oh, thank you. I left my jacket outside the inn." She took the jacket and draped it over her shoulders like a cap. "If you want to help me get the chicken back there I can give you your coat back." It's still cold and she didn't think he'd want to be without a coat.

"Huh." He doesn't sound disinterested in the least. On the contrary, his tone is curious, his interest piqued. Of course, it's not information he'd ever need to know back home. Manhattan doesn't really have a whole lot of chickens he has to worry about. But still, he grins a little and says, "The more you know, right?"

There's no such thing as bad learning, as far as he's concerned.

"No problem." He's wearing long sleeves beneath his coat, but it's still not very warm. The chill raises goosebumps on his skin, but he figures he's still way more warmer than he is. "Oh, sure, I'll help. You might want to come inside and dry off, though. Even with a coat, you don't want to be wet and outside in this weather."

"Yes! I took care of chickens back home, among other things." It was the sort of thing that you just picked up over time. "I had a pet chicken. His name is Heihei." She missed him and his weird antics. She hoped he was okay, since she wasn't there to look after him. He wasn't the smartest chicken, much like the chicken she was trying to get back to the Inn. The chicken that was currently pecking at the snow and freaking out when the snow loosens and falls on it.

Moana smiled as she encouraged the small gray chicken back home. She at least assumed that the inn was the chickens home. Moana hoped.

"Yeah. I've been staying at the inn." Her smile looked a little nervous. "I'm learning about the cold." It wasn't something she was used too. "I've decided that I don't like it." It didn't take Moana long to come to this decision.

"Oh no, you definitely wouldn't want to sleep in it. You would eventually freeze and...." She just gave a pointed look without actually saying it out loud but she knew that a person could freeze to death in the snow and cold if they didn't have the proper shelter.

Then she smiled softly, thinking of Margaery and her own reaction to the snow since she wasn't familiar with it either. "It has to be a lot warmer before it would start to melt. Eventually spring will come and it will go away. It just takes awhile."

Moana’s large dark eyes watched the girl while her thoughts filled in the end of her sentence. She really wasn’t interested in dying. "Oh- I don’t want that." She had things to do and death would put a very uncomfortable halt to that. Maybe it was time to stop playing in the snow and start figuring out a way to help out. She was familiar with living in a small village and everyone banding together to work.

"But it will get warmer?" Her voice jumped in tone, her expression brightening as if she’d been offered water while stranded in the desert. Moana really wanted to believe that it would get warmer. It’s been a few days and she was already tired of the cold. It felt as if the days were stretching longer and longer.

Her head fell to the side, a puff of misty air gathering in front of her lips as she huffed. "I really don’t like the cold." It was a fact she didn’t even try and hide.

Sonny laughs a little, walking along side Moana and the small gray chicken. Most people here are more concerned with the bigger picture. Most people here wouldn't risk catching a cold (or something worse) to save a chicken from drowning in the fountain. It's charming, and a little bit heart warming, that this girl would go to all that trouble.

It's the sort of little random acts of kindness that Sonny likes seeing in the world. That lets him continue believing that not everyone is bad and selfish.

"I'm from New York," he says, shrugging a shoulder. "All we know is the cold. Where are you from?"

Moana’s attention was split between the chicken and Sonny. She didn’t want the chicken to wander off and invent new ways to hurt itself. She was happy to see that it was following the path cut through the snow; apparently chickens didn’t like snow either. Her eyes would then turn back up to Sonny who she offered a warm smile too.

The fact that falling into the water might be dangerous didn’t enter Moana’s mind. Even now her concern was for Sonny and the chicken more than herself.

"No, I’m from an island. It’s warm most of the time, sometimes windy and chilly, but nothing like all this." She waved a hand at the snow. Her jacket was easy to spot against the whiteness of the snow around it and just as Moana had said it rested just outside of the inn where she’d dug her hole. It’d been a moment of discovery gone horribly wrong.

It was, for all intents and purposes, looking like they had some sort of suicidal chicken on their hands. In Ravi's opinion, the thing should just take the final plunge so he could get some decent chicken wings, but at the same time, steady eggs is probably a bit more intelligent of a thing to have, long term, so he sighs and wanders closer to stop being a spectator and actually offer some kind of help. "Why did the chicken cross the fountain?" he asks, feeling like he probably deserves a bit of a smack for such a bad joke, but he just can't resist.

Moana looked up at him and seriously considered his question. "Because it forgot that it didn’t know how to swim?" At first, she hadn’t realized that he was joking but as seconds lingered she grew a little bit more awkward. Her eyes watched him for a few moments before they were steered back towards the chicken who wanted to inspect the water again.

She leaned forward and lifted the chicken, placing him down and out of the path of the fountain. It began to peck at the snow, freaking out whenever the snow would crumble in its general direction. It was then that Moana looked back up at the man, her expression a mixture of concern, confusion, embarrassment and her usual friendly smile.

"That wasn’t a serious question." She’s got it. "Hi."

"No, it wasn't," Ravi agrees with a sympathetic look on his face that says that a lot of people don't usually get his jokes and he understands the confusion. Still, he is wondering why they have a suicidal chicken intent on doing the polar plunge on their hands, which is a curious thing, indeed. "Did you drive it to this?" he deadpans, not knowing when to quit. "Belittled the chicken until it felt it had no other choices and couldn't continue to live on?"

"Where did it come from?" he has to wonder, next.

Moana lightly tapped her fist against her thigh looking a little awkward. "I get it. I think... you know I should probably-" She looked around for the chicken and found it peaking at the ground. Moana just stared at it and realized that like Heihei, she had no defense for this chicken. "The gods have a plan for everyone. Even the chicken." She didn't want to eat it. It reminded her to much of Heihei.

Her dark eyes moved back up to Ravi, her lips stretching into more of a smile. "I don't think it can understand us." She replied even though she realized quickly that he was joking. She didn't think it was that funny and it was easier to be literal than it was to be mean.

"I think it might have followed me from the inn... I remember seeing some chickens inside. I figured to get them out of the cold." Which ment that someone might be missing this chicken.

"Well, if the gods plan for this chicken to drown, I hope they send us some oil and a deep fryer, because I like to think that the gods have a plan for me to enjoy chicken wings, at some point in time soon." The feast on pseudo-Thanksgiving had been incredible, don't get him wrong, but still, he's used to being able to pick up junk food at any whim (thank you, America), and it's hard getting away from that.

"We should probably escort it home," he admits. "I will allow you the great honour of carrying it," he says, trying to bluff his way out of getting hen-pecked to death.

Moana looked up at him. "Since they didn't we should get him home." She stepped forward, her long dark hair sticking to her shoulders and back where it was still very wet. She'd have to grab her jacket or risk catching a cold. She bend down and picked up the chicken, placing it in the crook of her arm. Moana wasn't afraid of being pecked, if you held them correctly they were usually comfortable.

"I don't think I've fried anything." She looked up at him, her eyes transparent and curious. "What does that taste like?"

"Heaven," Ravi sighs out blissfully, because honestly, he doesn't think he ever really believed how much he'd missed fried food, but the lack of mozzarella sticks, chicken wings, and a varied assortment of other fried wares has quickly proven to show him what an absolutely abhorrent diet he had before this, unless Peyton or Liv or Major had been taking care of him and making sure he didn't rot out with sugar and oil.

"How have you not eaten fried food?" he demands. "Did you live on a vegan eatery?" He gestures for her to start leading the way, wary about her being in the air too long with that wet hair.

Moana turned and headed back towards the Inn; it was fairly close which was a blessing for Moana considering her daring rescue of a wayward chicken. Her chin turned up towards him as he spoke and a light smile played across her lips.

"I'm from an island and we didn't have a lot of oil besides coconut oil but that was used in other things." They didn't have enough or the inclination to fry anything. "The island's name is Motunui. Have you... heard of it?" She has yet to run across anyone who has heard of her island but she thought it might be worth asking. She was hopeful but also realistic.

When the Inn came into view so did her jacket which she had left in the snow. It looked like a dark stain against the pure white fluff it rested on.

An island. Somewhere tropical, from the sounds of it. Way different from here, way different from New York. The sort of place people probably go on vacation to. He can't imagine being taken from such a nice sounding place to a place like this.

He's really starting to miss the city. The buildings so close together, all the people and the noise and the sidewalks. Hell, even the air pollution. He's terribly homesick.

"That sounds nice," he says softly, imagining what it must be like to live in a place that's warm all the time. Where there's no snow and no risk of catching hypothermia when you rescue a chicken from a fountain. "Hey, is that your coat?"

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02 SNOW & CHICKENS

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