The lush scents of the forest were the first things Silver sensed as her groggy mind stirred. There was a faint, sweet smell in her nostrils, as if someone had . . .
Immediately Silver rolled onto her feet, whirling around and looking everywhere for the creature that had attacked her. Feeling woozy, she stumbled to one side before falling sideways onto the dirt.
"Whoa, whoa!" A shape loomed over her, taller than her by several inches. The touch of a wing was laid lightly on her side. "Don't try to move just yet. You've been unconscious for a few minutes now."
"Who . . . who 'r yu . . " Silver slurred, narrowing her eyes.
The chicken--for she was sure it was a chicken--didn't speak, but stepped sideways into the moonlight. The illumination revealed a rather handsome rooster, with a straight, bright red comb and smaller wattles. His midnight-black feathers were tinged with dark, crimson lacing about his head. As he turned, she could see a few solid blood red saddle, tail, and hackle feathers. What really caught her attention most were the black, lethal claws the clinked together with each step. Crumpled on the ground, Silver felt all but helpless in the face of such a foe.
Fixing her with a pair of grey eyes, he grinned. "I'm Blackthorn. And that's all you need to know."
"What do you want with me?" Silver raised herself into a sitting position, staring up nervously at the rooster, afraid.
"I'm sorry I had to use that drug, mi'lady," he dipped his head, truthfully ashamed. "But I needed your attention, and this was the best way I could get you away from the audience of your clan long enough to . . . give you a proposal."
"What kind of deal do you . . ."
She was silenced by Blackthorn, who leaned in closer, his eyes deep with understanding that seemed to dig into the very depths of her own yellow ones. "I know you want that pretty hen Daggerbeak has locked away, and I have a way of getting her back." He grinned. "How's that sound to you?"
