[ a familiar sight for sore eyes. aerith is kneeling to the ground, busying herself with the chickens, trying to catch one. each dodge her expertly, no doubt having adjusted to her behavior by now. this, too, is probably normal, an everyday occurence and once that's plagued them since childhood. rambunctiously, she ducks to try and grab one, almost succeeding. ]

Oh, come on. One of you has to want a hug!

[ all the while, sha-ming is speaking, unrolling a spiel that means as much to aerith as the clouds mean to the grass. ]

Do we have to do this every time I show up here? My answer won't change. [ finally, her hands touch the soft downy feathers of a small chicken, its plumage a bright enough yellow that it's feathers glimmer green when the animal turns it's head just so. ] Gotcha!

[ hm. ]

Animals don't know the future. For example, it can't say what it'll see at a watering hole or something... But, I can say, let's go on a date, and I already know exactly what I'll see. [ but before he can get a word in edgewise, aerith is showing him the chicken. ]

Doesn't he look just like you? But cuter!