Impulse stares and tilts his head. Effie (short for Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw, destroyer of couches, the first of her name, queen of the fire escape, second freeloader of apartment 204) tilts her head in turn. Freshly washed, dried, and spoiled with treats by the entire apartment, she’s looking much better than the waterlogged bird he found.
Zed has officially won this argument, the conniver. He wormed Effie right into their hearts. Good thing Impulse didn’t find a sheep or he’s certain they’d be starting a farm.
There is the matter of where to house her though. Tango helped him set up a “mini portable indoor magickified grass field” in their guest room while Zed and Skizz built her a tiny coop. Tango also tampered with the window hinges to let her in and out of their balcony garden. But Impulse doesn’t want her to be restrained to the small four walls of their apartment. She deserves the chance to wander, to stretch her legs and explore. They all have half a dozen ways to track her down so losing her isn’t an issue. But where would be concealed from the landlord enough and safe enough to let a chicken free roam?
A soft ding from his brewing stand distracts Impulse. His potions are ready! His pest control prank potions…
Well there’s a thought! His traps aren’t deadly. And it’s nothing a few drops of luck potion won’t help her avoid until he thinks up an alternative.
Impulse watches Effie’s feathery behind disappear around a bend in the vents, gold sparks of luck haloing her head, a small bottle of light around her neck brightening the dark space as she goes.
