Today, I killed my sister’s innocence with a hen.

The sound of little feet across the floor outside followed by the sliding of metallic wheels on wood woke Lita that morning. It was a vaguely familiar sound to her, usually accompanied by her mother’s drowsy groans back home. In this case, however, there was no murmur of a plea for just a bit more time in bed, and so the little footsteps continued creeping closer. They finally came to a stop next to Lita’s head, and so she decided to roll over on her back to see what exactly was going on.

What Lita noticed first was that the little feet had a body that accompanied them. In her morning daze, this discovery fo a person, instead of just a pair of noise feet, approached her came as a mild surprise. The second thing she noticed was that this somebody looked familiar.

She blinked a couple of times. Yes, she was certain. For some strange reason, Fiona had come to wake her. At this early hour? The second moon had yet to rise!

“You cannot sleep?” Lita finally managed to ask her. It seemed reasonable enough for an explanation. Why else would one stay awake so early? As a friendly, sisterly gesture, she moved over as much as she could on the small bed to make room for her. Perhaps having company would help her get some rest? But Fiona was having none of it.

“I had enough. Come on! We have work to do.!” The little girl reached down and began to pull Lita out of the bed. Fiona, as Lita quickly learned, was surprisingly strong for a girl two years her junior. That, or Lita’s for was just light enough to carry away. Either way, Lita was climbing out of her comfortable bed by force and with mild protest.

“I have a plan, Fiona started, pulling her older sister out of the room. “To surprise our parents. We’re gonna make them a big chicken meal!”

“But do we even know how to do that?”

“Of course! I’ve seen Father cook chicken so many times. Auntie, too. I’ll show you how.”

“I don’t like this. Maybe we should ask Father for help?”

“No way! How can we surprise him if he’s helping us? You’re so silly, Lita.”

Lita may have offered some more words in protest, but Fiona wasn’t hearing any of it. The girls made their way down the small spiral staircase, out the door, and to the back of the building where a few chickens were kept.

The older sister looked around confused for a moment before asking, “So, where is the dead chicken?” As far as she could see, the few hens the family owned were still alive, clucking and kicking. The one rooster was making his presence well known.

Fiona was busy coaxing one of the hens out of her nest into her hands. Once successful, she slowly spun around and showed her prize to Lita.

“She’s right here.”

“But… but it’s not dead! How are we supposed to cook it?”

“Not yet, of course.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “We gotta kill her first. Don’t worry, silly. I’ll show you how,” she added, noticing the look of horror on her sister’s face.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t. What if something does wrong? Just it back, okay? Please?”

“You worry too much,” Fiona grumbled, now a bit occupied with keeping her hold on the struggling hen as if she just realized her fate. “Look, I’ve seen Father and Auntie and Uncle do this all the time. I know what I’m doing. All you need to do is hold her for just a little bit. You can do that, right?”

Lita was looking off into the distance, and let out a long yawn. She still didn’t like this.

“Right, Lita?”

Little sister wasn’t going to give up, Lita decided. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

Her surrender made Fiona’s eyes light up like little campfires. She rushed over to give Lita a hug in appreciation, but she was still holding the hen, and the little aristocrat quickly backed away.. Fiona simply shrugged and set the chicken back down. “Okay. I’ll come find you at midday.”

“We’re not starting now?”

“Of course not, silly. It’s too soon.”

“So why did you wake me so early?” Lita took a rare moment to show her disapproval by crossing her arms and glaring at the girl. Her expression went ignored.

“Because, I had to tell you my plan in secret, before Father and Auntie and Uncle and your mother woke up. Go back to bed, if it means so much to you.”

Still annoyed, Lita left in a huff to crawl back into bed. Much to her disappointment, sleep would not come to her. Uneasy thoughts of killing and cooking hens stayed in her mind instead.

-*-

“The girls have been getting along well, haven’t they?” Firenze commented pleasantly as he approached Senna.

He had a bottle of scarce Caribbean rum in one hand and two glasses in the other, for which the woman appeared very grateful. She took the initiative and took both gifts from his hands, bringing them to a small table at the far wall and a small couch. She then took a seat and sweetly beckoned him over, which he followed.

“They certainly have,” Senna laughed, pouring them both some of the rum. “It’s a shock, really. They’re so different.”

“Does Lita have many friends back home?”

Senna shot him a look to show her offense at the implication. “She’s doing just fine. Why?”

“I don’t mean any harm. I was only wondering if she was getting lonely.”

“Well, she isn’t.” Senna drained her drink and nearly slammed the glass back on the table. An unattractive scowl had appeared on her face, and Firenze sighed. All didn’t seem to be well at the Urandri residence, he decided.

“Come on, now,” he told her softly, pouring her another drink. “You know I’d never mean anything bad by you or the little ones. Relax some, take a rest.” This enticing little speech was followed up by a soft kiss for Senna’s cheek. It seemed to have the desired effect on his lover, and she relaxed her shoulders and took another drink.

“I just wish Jol would be a bit more social while we’re here. It isn’t healthy for him to sit in that room and just watch them all day.”

Firenze considered mentioning that he always suspected something wrong with that girl, but thought about how Senna would take that and decided against it. The last thing he wanted to upset her over something that probably meant nothing. Jol was nothing but shy and more than a little antisocial. He could grow out of that, couldn’t he?

Senna interrupted his thoughts. “But I do worry about Lita while she’s off with the two of them. You don’t think they’ll be bad influences on her, do you? Especially Anare.”

“They know their place, I promise you that,” Firenze told her. “Our children won’t learn anything indecent from them. Or do you not trust my abilities as a father?”

He asked her this with a sweet smile that Senna had seen all too often, and always had a way of calming her nerves. She returned it with a half-contented sigh and slid her hand over to her lover’s knee. “Well, if you’re so convinced that they’ll be fine for the time being, we have some time to ourselves, yes?”

Firenze smirked and pulled her closer, trailing down to her neck. “I’m far ahead of you,” was his muffled murmur.

Unfortunately, their moment of bliss was interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched female scream. The front door slid open and young Lita, terrified and hair full of brown feathers, ran toward the couple for refuge.

“It’s mad at us! It t-tried to attack me,” Lita managed to get out, after a few moments of sobbing into her mother’s skirts. “I-I’m sorry, Father…”

“Lita? LITA!” Fiona had her turn to run though the front door, this time lacking a horrified expression or feathers in her hair, but what she did have was a limp chicken’s head clutched in her fist.

“Lita, I told you it’d be okay. She’s dead now and not moving anymore.”

Her words did not have the intended effect. Lita was still trying to hide in Senna’s skirts, Senna was staring at what was in the little girl’s hand and wincing in disgust, and Firenze’s expression was growing into a form of anger that his children wouldn’t see often.

“Fiona, what have you two been doing?”

The little girl froze and hid the chicken’s head behind her back. She looked up at her father with a helpless, innocent expression as if it would erase what they all had just seen. “It’s supposed to be a surprise,” she answered quietly.

“What have you two been doing?” Firenze leaned over, reached around her back, and pulled the chicken’s head in her hand back into full view. Lita peeked from the safety of Mother’s skirts for a second before she saw this, whimpered, and hid again.

“I- we wanted to make you dinner,” Fiona finally answered, not looking her father in the eye. “It was gonna be a surprise. But Lita ruined it.”

“Well, what did you expect? She’s not used to seeing things like this.” Firenze pulled the chicken’s head out of her hand and held it in front of her face. “Lita hasn’t been raised like you have. She’s much more sensitive than you and your brother when it comes to certain things, especially this. I warned you of that before they came here, you remember?”

Still burning a hole in the floor, Fiona nodded.

Firenze sighed. “And you two can’t go on making surprise meals like this. Just because you’ve seen someone prepare one of those chickens doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you doing the same. You haven’t even reached your tenth birthday yet, and your sister’s barely eleven!”

“I’m sorry,” Lita whimpered through Senna’s skirt. Senna hesitated before placing a hand on the little girl’s back in a weak attempt to comfort her.

“There, there, sweet. Don’t be so hard on them, Firenze. They didn’t know.”

“Lita didn’t,” Firenze pointed out, “But Fiona here certainly did. I suppose I’ll have to keep a better eye on you for a while. And you won’t be going near any of those animals or helping out in the kitchen.”

“Father!” Fiona tried pouting. “Please? I’ll be really good now.”

“No. I want you to show me first.”

Fiona groaned and plopped on the couch to sulk. “Thanks a lot, Lita.”

“This isn’t her fault,” Senna insisted. “Don’t blame her. You had no business cutting up poor chickens in the first place, let alone getting her involved! Come on, dear,” and her tone suddenly turned much softer as she collected her daughter and stormed out of the room.

Fiona just sulked some more.