"I see I'm not the only one who wants you, Bloodwing," the little black hen whispered softly. In fact, it was so soft that Bloodwing could have sworn that only he could hear her. "You've been busy."
"Well, you know me," his voice was stern, and his eyes narrowed. "I always like to keep busy."
"You were always wiser than you looked," the shadow chuckled. With a soft flutter, almost like the wings of a butterfly in a slight breeze, she alighted from her perch and landed on the pine-needle dusted ground. Her eyes, the amber-yellow of a snake, never left the rooster's face. There was a soft click as her talons ground into the soil and rubbed against each other. "It's nice to see you again," her voice practically dripped with honey sweetness, and her eyes were innocent, mild as she peered at him with curiosity. "When I heard you were 'in-town' I thought I'd pay you a little visit to see how you were faring."
"Fantastic, thanks for asking." Little pieces were clicking together in his mind. Missing crown. Innocent, snake-like eyes. Where had he met her before? It must have been some time ago . . .
Suddenly Bloodwing's eyes widened. His beak opened in a gape.
The black hen had noticed his reaction. "Well, I'm flattered that you remember me, Bloodwing," she murmured, drawing closer, her eyes boring into his. Her grin widened into a despising leer. "Or should I say, brother-in-law?"