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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

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Saw you were taking a break from this blog so no rush! Just a thought I keep having, since jealous possessive Sooga is amazing. Suppose the boys had Link and Mipha over for dinner and Link is all goo-goo-eyed over Kohga because his cooking is so good? And Kohga of course just keeps making Sooga jealous by feeding Link until Sooga is just "will you two excuse us a moment" while he drags Kohga to the kitchen for the roughest, most possessive quickie of his life XD

Oh this is SUCH a good idea. We love a jealous Sooga here, folks!

“Linkie! Mipha! There’s the little couple!”

Kohga welcomed Kohga with a hug, and graced Link with a nod. Mipha chuckled, ever the bubbly babe as she was.

“Kohga! We’re SO glad you invited us for dinner! I wasn’t feeling like cooking tonight, actually, and Link...always makes too much.”

She gave him a side eye (best she could anyway, looked as scary as a kitten), and he rubbed the back of his head, a bit bashful. Kohga shook his head.

“Oh It’s my pleasure! I’ve been testing out some new recipes lately, I wanted you guys to be the first to try it. Not to mention It’s been SO long since you came to visit! Everyone misses seeing your little fishy face!”

He pinched at her cheek, making her blush something fierce. Ugh, precious little pearl, this girl. He motioned for them to come on in, just in time to catch Sooga setting up the table. He nodded at them, just as he was placing the glasses.

“Lady Mipha. Link.”

That was the best one could do in terms of greeting, at least when it came to a busy Sooga. Kohga had done all the cooking, it’d make sense that Sooga could pick up the slack. Kohga sat down, and Sooga was about to place his glass of wine next to him, when Link sat down right next to him. It was most likely just the fresh bread and butter being on that side of the table, but it didn’t halt Sooga’s jealousy. He huffed. No sense in being rude to a guest, even though the boy lacked manners. He was forced to put his glass next to Mipha’s seat, which he didn’t like. Nothing against Mipha personally, he just...didn’t like small, sweet women. Reminded him of too many things he wished he could forget. Kohga chuckled as he had Sooga pour him a glass of wine.

“Mipha! Are you feeding this boy? He’s already almost done with the damn basket!”

Link had helped himself to all the bread there, essentially licking the butter right off the cloth. Link was a good, brave boy, but his eating habits were just as bad as his gluttony. Not that Kohga minded. Mipha tried to excuse him, but he waved her off.

“Oh don’t say sorry, we love a boy with an appetite! I’ll feed him enough to get him right through winter! Sooga, soup first, please! And uh, another round of bread. Make that two.”

Sooga obeyed, bringing over bowls of soup, and fresh baskets of bread. Sooga insisted he wasn’t hungry, so he more or less came in and out, occasionally sipping his own wine. It was fine with Kohga, given what they had planned for after dinner. Link dug into his pumpkin soup, and he was clearly in love with it, given how he slurped at his bowl. Mipha chuckled, dainty as she ate her own portion. Kohga saw how hungry Link was, and felt almost pity for him. Boy wasn’t just hungry for food, he was hungry for GOOD food.

“Here, give this a shot, it’ll put a dent in your gut.”

Kohga made his own portion of creamy heart soup, and if he must say, it’s the best soup one could ever eat. He scooped a spoonful, before shoving it into Link’s mouth. Link sat there for a moment, before his face nearly exploded. Surprise surprise, Link loved HIS cooking. He more or less abandoned his empty bowl, in favor of facing Kohga, clearly eager for more. Link was full of courage, not table manners. Kohga chuckled, continuing to sit there and feed Link like a misbehaving mutt. Sooga came in with the next course, only to stop for a moment. Kohga was sitting here, spoon feeding Link soup, all while Mipha just sat there, chuckling. How inappropriate of her, not keeping a leash on her man. He cleared his throat as he walked in, setting more food down onto the table.

“Master Kohga, you are reinforcing improper behavior.”

“Oh hush Sooga, the poor thing is so thin! I can’t help it! Look at how he likes my food!”

Link was finished with his bowl of veggie curry in a hot second (as well as Mipha’s leftover portion of soup), and was currently looking at Kohga, clearly eager for more. Kohga chuckled as Link was more or less in his lap at this point, eagerly awaiting more food. To which, Kohga was more than happy to indulge. Mipha somehow didn’t look embarrassed, and Sooga couldn’t understand just why.

“I apologize for his appetite, I swear he had something to eat before we came over. If it’s so much of a trouble, I can-”

“Oh it’s fine, it’s fine! You guys are my guests! Let me feed you!”

Kohga had no hesitation to send Sooga back into the kitchen, continuing to feed Link from his own bowl of poultry curry. Sooga grumbled as he nearly slammed the plates into the sink. Link was always a thorn in his side, and Kohga’s obvious attraction to him only made him want to kick his ass more.

“Stupid. Pest. Nuisance.”

“Sooga! Go get the honeyed fruit, will you? It should still be warm!”

Sooga took it out of the fridge. He stared at the fruits in front of him. Kohga sat there, cooking and peeling these fruits with the freshest of honey, made his own ice cream on the side, and even gathered the honey all by himself. Link didn’t deserve something made with so much love and effort. He contemplated eating the whole plate in petty vengeance, but that would be going against Kohga’s orders. He sighed, and added the cooked fruit onto the plate, with a scoop of ice cream, topped off with even more of that thick, sweet honey sauce. He brought it to the table, and Link’s eyes shone in excitement. Of course he wanted this.

“Here you go, Master Kohga.”

Kohga nodded in thanks, then he picked a wildberry. It was sticky, given how the honey sauce dripped down his hand. Then he gave it to Link. Link accepted it, but the juiciness of the berry made the purple juices run down Kohga’s hand, alongside the honey sauce. Sooga was about to offer him a napkin, when Link had the gall. The NERVE, to hold Kohga’s hand, trail his tongue alongside his wrist, and shove his thumb right into his mouth. He kept it there for a moment, clearly licking up all he could, before he slowly pulled away, drool connecting his hand to Link’s mouth. It took EVERYTHING in Sooga not to slap him across his stupid, slutty face. Instead, he put his hand on Kohga’s chair, nearly cracking the wood.

“Master Kohga. There’s a problem in the kitchen. Please, come with me.”

“Sooga, you can totally handle it, can’t you?”

Master Kohga was LIKING this. Liking the notion of Link’s mouth cleaning him free of that sticky, sweet sauce. Sooga cleared his throat loudly.

“I cannot. Please, Master Kohga. Come. Into. The. Kitchen.”

“Finnnne. Mipha, Link, you guys keep eating, I’ll be right back.”

Kohga pushed himself out of the chair, following Sooga into the kitchen. Sooga slammed the door shut, leaning down to glare at Kohga.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you are up to, Master Kohga.”

“What? Little ol’ me? I’m just having dinner, Sooga!”

Kohga grinned, ducking past Sooga in order to get himself a fresh banana. Once he started eating it, he sat up on the counter. Sooga took the chance to pin Kohga between himself and the countertop.

“You don’t think I don’t see that? The way you’re letting him lick over you like some street dog. You don’t feed ME like that, why is HE so special?”

“First of all, you barely eat. Second of all, I’m feeding my guests. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really matter, does it? If little Linky gets hungry for some meat, why wouldn’t I put it right into his mouth?”

“He does NOT deserve to touch you.”

“I love how you’re SO mad, and SO jealous of me. It’s cute, because you can’t do jack shit, big boy. You can sit there and stew like soup, and you can’t do shit. My big, strong boy, gonna let his man get RAILED by a blonde twunk. Funny, honestly.”

Sooga watched as Kohga polished off his banana, giving him such a cocky, almost stuck up look. Sooga shortened whatever distance they had between them, putting his face RIGHT in front of Kohga’s.

“You really think I can’t do anything? You find me so inept?”

“Sooga, I know you are. Link can kick your ass, and rail mine in less than a few minutes. And you’d just sit there, and watch. Let’s face it, you don’t stand a chance.”

Kohga went so far as to flick the peel at him, teeth shining through his cocky grin. Sooga thought about keeping his cool. Then he thought about the way Link licked at his hand. And he lost. His. Mind. With a growl akin to a wild wolf, he put his hand over his mouth, and SLAMMED him backwards into the counter.

“You are MY Master. No one else’s. If I have to FUCKING show you, I absolutely will.”

Sooga held no hesitation, no mercy as he tore off his clothes, and shoved his cock right into his ass. Sooga was horny as HELL when he was viciously jealous, and Kohga’s ass was just where that anger wanted to go. He kept his hand over his mouth, despite the fact that Kohga grabbed at his hands, trying (rather weakly) to pry them off. It pissed Sooga off, seeing how much Kohga was enjoying his angry, violent thrusts.

“You use your hands, your WORDS to bewitch men. It is a talent that should only be for me. Only I should be for you. Not any other blademaster, not any PEASANT like him. I give you everything. Protection, my love, my COCK,”

He shoved himself extra hard into him, and he heard Kohga cry against his palm. He LIKED this. Of course he did, it was HIM, not Link, not any other man. HIM, and HIM alone.

“Everything you could want. From ME. I won’t let him touch you. Every time you even THINK of pulling THAT shit again, I want you to remember how I’m FUCKING you in this kitchen, with them right in the other room. You don’t do that stupid hand shit with him, you do it with ME.”

Sooga would NOT calm down. He removed his hand from his mouth, and shoved in two of his fingers right into his open, drooling, horny mouth. And Kohga loved it. Kohga was groaning and drooling over them, it only made him angrier. To think, Link wanted to touch this. Link wanted to have what was rightfully his. Moron. Idiot. Thinking he can touch HIS Master Kohga. His cock could NEVER slam into him like this, his cock could NEVER make Kohga as hard as he was right now. One might think Sooga was being too much, abusive even, but they both knew better. Kohga LOVED angry, greedy Sooga. He hated how he didn’t want to share, didn’t want a chance of anyone taking him away.

“No other man can stuff you so full of cum like I can. You want me to prove it? You want me to fucking SHOW you what I can do?!”

Sooga used his free hand to SMACK against Kohga’s ass, digging his nails into his ass, just shy of making Kogha bleed underneath his fingernails. Then he came, dick nestled deep into his ass, and held Kohga down so he could take it all. He stayed put, pinning Kohga down against the counter, making him take every last drop of cum. And when he finished cumming, he ever so slowly peeled his hand away, watching as his fingers dripped with his drool. Kohga’s lips were open, panting, and his whole frame was damn near shaking. Sooga was about to speak, when Kohga sat up, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. It was a wanting, firm kiss, and it damn near made Sooga swoon. He parted after a moment, a smirk at his lips.

“You, are one jealous, jealous boy, Sooga~. I like that about you. You should get jealous a lot more.”

Sooga looked down at the mess he had made. Both of their cum’s littered the floor, and Sooga couldn’t believe just how much he contributed to the mess. Sooga sighed.

“Don’t fool my love making for joy. I will NOT have you touch him. Do you understand me?”

Kohga could swoon. Jealous Sooga had such a deep, sexy voice, it made his legs turn to jelly.

“I’ll behave, I’ll behave~...”

He poked at his chin, leaning up to kiss his nose.

“Especially if daddy is gonna keep being SO mean to me.”

“Sweet words only get you so far, Master.”

He knelt down to graze his teeth against Kohga’s neck, and his weak little giggle only made Sooga FAR more angry towards Link.

“Kohga, Sooga! Is everything alright there?”

“Just fine, Mipha! Be out in a sec!”

Kohga took a hold of his hand, kissing the wet fingers oh so tenderly.

“Teach me another lesson, really quick. MAKE me behave.”

“With Pleasure, Master Kohga. Whatever rids that pest from your mind.”

#asks #kohga #sooga #mipha #link #lemon #im telling you link will eat ANYTHING covered in honey #anything #and Sooga gets SO mad at that #because the idea of Link getting to fuck Kohga #makes him SO fucking angry #even though kohga would LOVE to pull that pretty hair and hear his little gasps

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thanidiel · 6 years

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Dominion

Sometimes, the soldier could force fondness to the ways of which Autumnvale has attempted to adapt to her world.

The pheasant, however, is braised.

The texture too soft and tender; less meat and more sodden. Neither is much appreciation to be had for the tang of white wine in its juices; a waste of drink, if she were to be asked. With every bite of fare, the grains of mustard within sauce had burst against her teeth; annoying, distracting.

Underneath, the cook, Dawnspire native, had attempted to appeal to her tastes. With her knife lifting up the side of the poultry, she discovers a bed of wilted and blanched dark-greens intermixed with a ‘rustic’ chopping of mushrooms - foraged from the woods along the mountainside, she thinks she heard some sod say.

It is, unabashedly, a homage to the woman’s tastes and the culture of cuisine in the colder regions of Quel’Thalas. Unfortunately, it is equally clear that the elves who fed the mouths of soldiers and officials to pass through this feast hall, had never seen such fare in their lives.

If such a combination of foods were to be prepared proper, the bird would have come charred and speckled with the mustard, crushed. On the side, perhaps, the vegetable and fungi would come raw or in a cloudy soup. And the wine would be in goblet than simmered down in a pot.

There is something to be said about effort, such as Thanidiel has preached when it was in turn to say something gracious, or morale-raising. And food, is food, after all.

She isn’t sure how much she appreciates the way this meal parallels with times of old, still.

Another portion to be slid off the curve of her knife and popped into her mouth - just for the etiquette of it - and the plate is pushed off towards the table’s center. A slow shifting of her digits like the movement of a piano’s hammers, and the blade rotates to a rest along the inside of her palm.

The handle is levered forward.

“Elinden, how many?”

Her gaze raises from underbrow to regard the man addressed. He looks tired. She can see it in the weight pressed upon his eyelids, even with the hacked red mussing around his head.

Good, he should be.

“Sixteen from the Thirteenth Regiment. Seven from the Southeast, Hallowleaf, they said.”

“Leaders ‘mongst them?”

“A former Knight-Master, Kielen Duskshield. From your people, they answered to a Ciril Farlong.”

“Aye. Stabled? Watered? Fed?”

“All being attended to, Captain. As of now, they sit cross-legged on the grasses outside of the Village, taking fill of the bread given.”

“Send them here; they will make their introductions to me before given right to make camp. In the meantime, the eastern-side should be cleared for their presence.”

“The whole of them as usual, Captain?”

“Aye. Be…” the Duskward draws off, the trenched gap between her brows closing into a knit. By now, the knife has been lowered the table. Still, her hand spreads over the blade.

“How many are we at now, Elinden? Last month was three-and-half-hundred ‘tween us and them.”

“With these additions, we number at four-hundred-and-six.”

“Growing a bit big for our britches, aye?”

“And the ovens.. and the grasslands, Captain.”

Thanidiel bows her head towards the mopheaded man standing at the table’s end, needing nothing more to convey the militant courtesy extended to the Lieutenant Brightvale. Again, the knife wheels in her grip; to be slid into breast from overhead with her comrade’s swinging hook of ankle around a stool leg.

“We’ll need to let the word spread. Another few dozens - less than a month’s time - and that is how many more I am willing to allow camp along the Village.”

“Twisting a cap on the jar?”

“Mm. I’m interested in maintaining an army, not a Great Herd.”

“S’that not an army?”

“Not my style, not my speed. Allow the Archon and his to lead thousands to battle. We’ll keep ourselves swift and effective for all of those death-defying stunts, aye?”

“You mean you will, Than– Captain. You do all of that, and it’s up to me and Harthen to calm the men behind us and assure them that we are, in fact, going to survive.”

“Give yourself some credit. It took the whole active company to fell the Reaver. If you’re willing to spread the rumour that I picked up and swung about chains the length of a warship twice-over, you are free to that ass-kissing, Elinden.”

“And Tyr’s Hand?”

“Your’s and the boy’s screaming spurred me on like dueling drums. Couldn’t have done it without you two.”

“One breath, you’re telling us both to shut our fucking mouths and keep quiet. Next breath, you’re saying our yapping inspires you. Which is it, Captain?”

“Whatever conveniences me to say at the time. For now? Shut it, duck your head, eat the vile they’ve been trying to feed me, and let’s both get back to proper work - Aye?”

“I can only shovel so much of it in my mouth at one time.”

“I’ve walked in on you placing at least three time’s the amount of breast on that plate, right in your mouth. Lying bitch.”

“Oi, watch yourself, Captain. Talk a lot of shit about who’s warming my bed; I’ve seen you want to shake your comrades bloody for even thinking about your’s.”

“The difference is that I have a woman and you have romps. Bring someone home to me and we’ll try some reverence.”

“Someone good for me?”

“Academy Diploma. Steady career. What else do those fucks at the top look for?”

“A certain paleness to the skin? A maximum of an inch of fat behind the arm?”

“Mm, toss all of that, then. Rubbish.”

The knife scrapes.

“–Eh?”

“Your attention span…” is drawn off. “Come on, get out. Bring them their first orders.”

“And the vile?”

“Give it to the hound on your way out.”

Thanidiel does not keep her eyes on Elinden with his exit from her hall. Her attention draws towards the knife. Coated in fat and spice, and pointed towards her own person. Out of place/misaligned. She grips unto its handle, and, carefully, wipes one of its two surfaces against the cloth placed to the right of her. Then, it flips as the action is repeated in another stroke. Idly, the thought passes on how the motions resemble Goose’s Formation.

In the midst of noise bubbling around her – Elinden’s stool scraping across rock and earth and weed; his footsteps aloud through even the soft dirt as it compresses under his boot; the voices of men and women filtering from the outside; the constant rumble of horse hooves vibrating underneath her feet – another thought materialises.

The Phoenix Guard wonders who, or what, would be caught between its wings.

Awaiting her answer, the tool is returned to the wood’s surface once more. There, it points outward in solemn welcome of every boot that begins to filter into the space before her.

She notes how they mimick army with the loosely packed southern volunteers at its fore, and the Knights at its back in rows. The number looks suffocated, sandwiched by the layout of the feast hall where its tables format in a folding flank. She can see how they shuffle uncomfortably as they are forced to settle over stone, coal, and ash, from the morning fire since-dead.

The audio of their march dies down to the shiftings of their clothing and roll of debris from underneath soles, then ebbs further into stagnant quiet.

And so it stays. For the Duskward does not immediately boom her greetings nor call forth the tradition of introductions to be made to her by each new head. Instead, she studies.

She studies the wear of their shoes, and how much the leather sags down their feet.

She studies how segments of plate strapped over chainmail, felt, and cotton, fit upon each new soldier’s person.

She studies the length of hair flying over their brows, speckling their cheeks and catching through beaming light.

She studies the roundness of them - the fat that builds upon their arms and bellies. Some look well-fed. Most, she can see how, already, the dwindling trade of Quel’Thalas has drained their bowls.

In particular, the soldier studies its leaders.

Such a thing has yet to be announced - nothing has been announced at all. But it is something Thanidiel finds easily determined.

The mountainpeople have not been trained in formal stiffness. They stood outside of the dutiful (painful, at times) parade rest the Knights beside them had adopted. Instead, those of her birth settle with a way known to her as vigourful, and to others, as defiant: a laxness to their shoulders, an uneven settle of the feet. ‘Round the one she has identified as Ciril, those close have all drawn back their adjacent legs. Protective, and hesitant to remove floor.

Kielen’s presence is louder than that. His garb is something bold and distinctive from ‘mongst the more uniform Knights. While his comrades were content with a single swordbreaker, or leather spaulder, strapped against their persons, she notes how plate layers along the length of his upper arms in broad, encompassing, pauldrons. Instead of a practical barbute hanging from underarm or belt like many others, an arrogant faceguard settles over his coif.

Loud.

Even idle, he is fucking loud.

She can sense the pacing of his breath from here; how it desynchronises from the calm of all those around him until the brute moves forward, like that would smear away the scrutinous glint underneath her brows.

“Former Knight-Master–”

“You are dismissed.”

“...Ma’am?”

“You may present yourself to Fury Company in a week’s time.”

The rest does not need to be given to the air between them. Again, the blade is in her hand, and, again, it is offered forth to the man opposite of her. Confidence removed, the Blood Knight reaches forward. It is an action hesitant and disbelieving as the bare iron is slid, and held, against rivets.

“Consider that your ticket.”

“The… men, ma’am?”

“Everyone here will be evaluated for entry. Grain, work, shelter, to be provided immediately thereof. Dismissed.”

The flicker of relief that goes through the harshness of his face is like a light through forest canopy. It is something redeeming to the butchery of his first presentation. Graceful, now, his surrender goes swiftly.

“Blood and Thunder, Kin’taris.”

“Sun at your back.”

With the turn of his body away from her, the Captain crooks her fingers towards the crowd.

“At random. I don’t care about any exploits or titles before you’ve stepped into this tent so I hope you’ve left it all in the field. Names first, then me and your two Lieutenants, Elinden Brightvale and Harthen Sunbright, will determine your skillsets, units, superiors, and standing orders.”

The small thing with as hastily shorn hair as Elinden, at the very back of Kielen’s former company.

“Yenette Sunshield.”

The giant with thick and loose coils, closest to Ciril.

“Byrran Morningheart.”

The man with copper red skin at the very center of the Knights.

“Oridren Bloodmist.”

The half-elf with an axe-bite on her jaw falling out of the southern pack’s formation.

“Shenuile Darro…”

#writing #thanidiel #autumnvale #sunguard

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mhsn033 · 4 years

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Chicken rehoming charity gets 52,000 lockdown hen requests

Image copyright Unusual Open for Hens

Image caption Cluck and safe: There has been tall query for chickens all one of the best design via lockdown says Unusual Open for Hens

A charity that rehomes chickens talked about it has had greater than 52,000 requests for hens since lockdown began.

Unusual Open for Hens saves birds that contain reached the head of their peak laying years and would face being slaughtered.

Operations director Jaki Hann talked about the tall query was as soon as sparked by an absence of eggs in retailers in March.

Despite coronavirus restrictions easing, the charity talked about it quiet had a prolonged ready listing.

Mrs Hann has greater than 80 hens living in a shiny bustle in her support garden in Kent.

Nonetheless she and her fellow volunteers contain handled a long way better numbers of birds since March.

“This week I am organising a handover for 332 hens so or now now not it can be a busy one,” she talked about. “I am additionally searching for homes for 800 ducks from a Somerset farm.”

Unusual Open for Hens began in London in 2008 and has since grown to operate nationwide, offering a replace for slaughter when hens procure past 72 weeks, taking hens from farmers and other industrial operations and delivering them to households.

Image copyright Jaki Hann

Image caption Fowl play: Jaki Hann has greater than 80 chickens at her home in Kent

When the UK lockdown began in March eggs, like bathroom roll, had been all straight away in transient supply.

That was as soon as when query “went entirely loopy”, talked about Mrs Hann.

“We needed to introduce a ready listing for the first time and up to now we contain had 9,480 folks register, requesting a whole of 52,106 hens.

“At the height we had been getting 4,000 inquiries a week.”

The employ of spurious photographs

Likely customers additionally tried to procure round Unusual Open for Hens’ rule that the charity essential to query photos of the assign the chickens would are living earlier than rehoming, Mrs Hann talked about.

The charity talked about doable chicken house owners would want fox-proof accommodation that would perchance also very effectively be locked at night, and two square metres of begin home per chook.

“Folk had been sending us doctored photographs and ones from the gain,” she talked about.

“Now we narrate anyone comprises a portion of paper in their photo with that day’s date handwritten on it.”

With lockdown easing, Mrs Hann talked about she had considered examples of oldsters regretting their resolution to procure chickens, with a handful taking outrageous measures.

“Now we contain heard of oldsters announcing they’d leave the coop door begin and let a fox address the hens, which is appropriate surprising,” she talked about.

“It be a horrid device to die and needless. We repeatedly take the hens support if folks demand.”

Image copyright Laura Niblett

Image caption Poultry in lope: Jay Niblett’s chickens came from a local farm

Curate’s fresh flock

Gloucestershire curate Jay Niblett began maintaining chickens in Could perchance perchance perchance, partly thanks to the dearth of eggs in retailers and partly to back his young folks be taught the assign meals came from.

“Now we contain wanted to total it for years and we lastly had the home,” talked about the 34-yr-veteran, who lives in Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire, alongside with his necessary other Laura, 32.

“We bought them from a local farmer and the kids entirely enjoy them.

“They procure to query after them, safe the eggs and additionally tidy out the coop.”

Image copyright Sarah Chidwick

Image caption Rooster discontinue: One among Sarah Chidwick’s chickens in most cases sleeps alongside relations

Pets with benefits

Sarah Chidwick has saved chickens “on and off” for 20 years and talked about she thought-about them pets first, egg services 2d.

Ms Chidwick talked about the birds, who poke her garden in Claverham in Somerset, contain queer personalities.

“A outdated chicken of mine ancient to realize into the kitchen – going via two cat flaps – and indulge in from the dog’s bowl.” she talked about.

“One among my fresh ones loves to sit down on your lap when you happen to are in the garden.

“She’ll appropriate attain as a lot as you and gently peck your leg and are awaiting you to contain interaction her up.”

Image copyright Sarah Chidwick

Image caption Factual eggs: Sarah Chidwick’s chickens are part of family existence in her Somerset home

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