Vaughn cursed his own carelessness for the tenth time that morning.
It was around 7o'clock that the whole ordeal began. Vaughn had woken only an hour previously to eat a hearty breakfast of porridge and begin his daily rounds of work for that day. It was a beautiful Thursday, not a cloud in the sky, and Vaughn had chuckled to himself bitterly when he'd seen today's weather. The Island of Happiness really lived up to its name. It was only his fifth week of coming here and he already hated it with every fiber of his being. The people were too cheery and talkative, the weather was too sunshiney and peppy...just the opposite what he was and wanted. Vaughn was a spiteful, angry man who only cared for his work and loved to take walks in the rain. The solitude the rain brought him, due to the fact that everyone else was too concerned about getting wet to go out, was a rarity in the city that he fully exploited when it came along. He glared at anyone who dared speak his name, and cursed anyone who pursued his company and distracted him from his job. When it came to his job, he really prided himself on the quality of the work he did and didn't allow anything to distract him from it.
So when he accidently let one chicken out of his sight to feed the others and it escaped from its coop, he was completely beside himself. The chicken had managed to make it out the coop door and had proceeded to run, a free-spirit, to god knows where. He had quickly finished up in the coop and ran out after it, hoping to catch it before it made it too far, but his hopes were squashed. The chicken was nowhere in sight. He wanted to pout and curse and stomp his brown cowboy boots at the outrage and unfairness of it all, but no, Vaughn was a grown man who would never lower himself to such a childish display. Instead of doing any of those things he'd quickly gone on a chicken hunt around the main land, figuring that a chicken would probably avoid water and would definitely not make it to the other areas so quickly. He had searched high and low around East town, the beach, and even the ranch. He had been surprised to see that the ranch had, since his last visit, been cleared and seemed to be occupied. But he hadn't lingered; he hated people anyway, and if they were important he'd be meeting them later. He had other business to attend to at the moment.
Unless he missed a spot, which he doubted, the chicken had to be in West town.
Grumbling under his breath, and cursing every god that had ever been theorized to exist, Vaughn had quickly retraced his steps past the animal shop and quickly made his way to West town. He expected there to be quite a bit of work ahead of him. West Town was a fairly large space, and though there were barely any places to hide there was also lots of brush towards the jungle. He was only thankful that the bridge to jungle had yet to be rebuilt- if the chicken had gotten over there it would have gotten eaten faster than he could blink.
Sighing and rubbing his temple, he crossed the threshold between East and West town. As his eyes did a quick scan of the open spaces, he noticed a girl sitting towards the meadow with her feet dangling over the side of the small river that separated the meadow from the town. Her feet were in the water and her little red boots were set neatly beside her. Long chestnut colored hair fell down her back and over an orange shirt, which fell down to a pair of denim jean shorts. He could see the edge of a yellow shirt underneath the orange, and over her brown hair there was a red bandana which tied in the back with a small knot. She seemed to be bothering something in her hands but he quickly drew his eyes off her to begin searching for the chicken. He'd never seen her before and didn't care to introduce himself.
After doing a full search, avidly avoiding the girl in fear that she'd try and talk to him, he came up empty. Sighing, he relented himself to the one thing he'd wanted to avoid- Striking up conversation with her. He figured that maybe she'd seen the chicken. He'd get the information and leave.
Acting before he could change his mind, he began walking towards her. He was coming up from behind her and hoped desperately that she'd hear him so that he wouldn't have to call out to her. If he didn't know her name, she'd try and give him it, affectively causing him to give her his out of courtesy (he was simply unable to be anything but a gentleman to smaller women, and boy did she look small as hell) and beginning a long spiel about what he did and why she was here. As he neared closer he could smell milk and honey on the breeze that flowed past her, and he found himself fond of the scent to his own horror. He really hoped she was eating milk or honey so that he could justify himself. He didn't want to think that she herself had smelled pleasant.
When he finally reached her, it seemed she hadn't noticed him. To his dismay he was forced to lean down and tap her shoulder, as he was a fairly tall man and not only was she even smaller than he expected but she was seated on the ground. She jolted at his touch, and much to his surprise her feminine yelp was also accompanied by the rather loud cluck of a surprised chicken. Instantly he regretted not talking to her sooner because looking down, he could see a chicken nestled comfortably in her lap as she lazily stroked its feathers. She turned her to look at him and for a moment he was nailed to his spot, unable to speak.
She had the biggest set of stormy blue eyes he'd ever seen. They were a beautiful, clear, blue grey that reminded him of rain in the summer. Her eye lashes were long and graceful, brushing her cheeks when she blinked. Her bangs fell from under her bandana and framed her heart-shaped face just right. Her plump, pink lips were parted, startled, and her cheeks had a slightly embarrassed blush coloring them. There was a smudge of dirt just under her right eye that he was strangely appreciative of, idly thinking that it was endearing and a sign that the girl valued hard work over vanity. He also noticed that her little red boots were muddy, and her clothes were covered in dirty smudges and handprints.
She wasn't holding any milk or honey. Just a dirty chicken that he knew wasn't hers.
Quickly she regained herself, shaking her head visibly to calm herself. He was quickly pulled out of his trance like state by the action and pulled his black Stetson further over his head, holding his hand out in a demanding manner.
"That's my chicken." He said quickly, looking away from her. He suddenly found it hard to meet her eyes, something that had never happened to him before with anybody. Watching her from the corner of his eyes he saw her glance down at the chicken and stroke it affectionately, a sad look in her eyes. With a frown she picked it up and held it out to him, twisting around at an awkward angle being it that he was directly behind her. Finally forcing himself to meet her eyes, to thank her, he was surprised by the sadness and longing he saw there.
"Oh...sorry. Didn't know this chicken belonged to anyone. Here, take her. And...be careful with her, she's a bit fussy." The girl, woman, said with a dull tone. Vaughn suddenly felt a strange guilt in his stomach for taking the chicken from her hands but didn't allow himself to let her keep the animal. He was surprised she didn't ask his name, or question him on the truth of his words. She hadn't even given him her name, either.
Vaughn forced himself to pretend he didn't care about her name. In reality he was curious, and a bit hurt, that she didn't seem to care about his name or bother giving her own. She just seemed not to care about anything but the chicken. It reminded him of himself, in a way.
Quickly turning on the heel of his boots he stormed away, suddenly feeling angry. For whatever reason, she...intrigued him. And that was annoying.
Before crossing the border between East and West Town he looked back at where the girl was sat. She had her back to him and her hair was blowing in a slight breeze. He imagined that the air blowing past her would smell like milk and honey. Her hands which had been previously holding the chicken in his arms were now on the ground behind her pulling at the long grass almost angrily, nervously even. Her shoulders shook from what he hoped was laughter but knew fairly well was crying.
She didn't look back at him.