Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
You know how in the ancient world they believed a very long time ago there was the age of heroes when the world was populated by super powered descendants of the gods. Chickens have that in real life but it’s the dinosaurs
This fits so well with the art of chickens contacting a wise ancestor:
I went to close the coop earlier but the hens didn’t feel like going home just yet, so I told them they could forage for ten more minutes before bedtime. When I returned (expecting to find them huddled inside, say good night, and close the door) they were standing by the door, looking like they didn’t dare to go in. There was a bird in their coop. A non-chicken bird. It was flying chaotically the way trapped birds do, crashing into every wall, somehow unable to stumble through the wide open door. The hens were staring at it with total stupefaction. The three of us stood there watching the bird and feeling awkward before it occurred to me to open the trap door over the nesting boxes, and it finally managed to fly out through this larger opening. The hens immediately entered their coop, climbed the little ladder to get inside and started the delicate process of choosing which perch to settle on tonight—while clucking to each other nonstop. I bet they’re still talking about it. They saw a fellow bird choose to leave the safety of the coop and fly away into the forest right as the sun was setting. Just about the craziest thing a bird could do. I started walking home and I could still hear their clucks of disbelief inside the coop the whole time.
