The weeks turned into months, and the months drew close to a year, and it felt more and more like Rocky had always been part of the flock. Like when you had a puzzle that was missing a piece and you finally found it, Ginger thought. Only you'd never realized there was a piece missing to begin with, nor did you first recognize the lost piece when you found it.

She'd rolled her eyes at herself for that one. It wasn't like her at all to be so sentimental...but then again, you had more time to learn about yourself when you weren't solely concerned with not being decapitated and stuffed into a pie.

And she knew she was right about Rocky. It was the little things that had captured her attention, like the way he could actually carry on a conversation with Mac now. He was good friends with Babs, always complimenting her knitting and listening with interest as she spoke about it. He was more fond of tea than he liked to admit, even if he did still refer to it as "leaf water." And he could at least feign an interest in cricket for Fowler's sake, as he had when Fowler had found a match playing on the radio and insisted that everyone listen in.

"Baseball," was all he had said to her afterward. "I miss baseball."

Fowler in particular seemed to be quite pleased with Rocky's "progress," as he called it. "You know, we might make a proper British rooster out of you yet!" he declared one day, when he was in an especially good mood. "After all, what is a Yank but a lost subject of the Crown, really?"

Rocky had scoffed at that for the rest of the day, of course. Ginger didn't blame him. But perhaps, she thought, that was why she had found her latest observation about him so amusing.

It had come to light earlier that afternoon, during one of their walks around the quieter parts of the island. Rocky had been busy helping in Mac's workshop all day, and it had apparently left him quite baffled. He spoke with his usual swiftness and made broad, elaborate hand gestures as he recounted what had happened. Ginger listened as she walked, not to his words so much as the hurried cadence of his voice. It was a familiar sound by now - familiar enough that she stopped in her tracks when she noticed something new about it.

"So then I was trying to tell Mac that even people can't land on the moon yet, I don't see how a chicken could, and then…"

"Wait," said Ginger. "Say that again?"

He gave her an odd look. "What part?"

"Just now. From the beginning." She furrowed her brows as she tried to concentrate.

"All I said was even people can't…"

"There." Ginger put up a finger to stop him. She had found it: the can't . He didn't say it the way he had when they'd first met. The a was just a bit deeper, a bit broader.

By now, Rocky was looking at her with genuine concern. "Uh, you feeling alright?" he asked. And there was that a once again.

A grin broke out across Ginger's face as she wondered why she had never noticed this before. "Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Your accent. It's changing."

His look of confusion instantly gave way to alarm. "Wait, really?"

She tried not to laugh as she said, "Only a bit here and there. You have to listen for it."

"I...I didn't notice."

"It makes sense, really." Ginger started to walk again. "You live out here with us, of course you would start to talk more like us eventually. I didn't notice, either. Isn't that odd? I mean, how long have we…" She trailed off as she realized Rocky was lingering behind her. "Rocky?"

He wasn't nearly as chipper as he'd been just a minute before. His tail feathers drooped, and he seemed lost in worried thought as he trudged along. The look on his face was downright existential.

"Oh, I didn't mean for it to upset you," Ginger said, taking his hand. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, you're fine! I just…" He paused, trying to find the right words. "It just feels weird to be thinking about it, that's all. And you know Pops won't let me hear the end of it if he catches on."

"You still sound like yourself, if that's what you're worried about," she told him. "You always will."

He squeezed her hand. "Thanks."

"And you know what else?" she added, lowering her voice. "I rather like the way it makes you sound. It's cute."

That made him smile again. "She finally thinks I'm cute!" he said in mock disbelief, unable to keep from laughing at himself. "Mission accomplished!"

They laughed together as they walked on, happy once again.

"I don't suppose Mac said anything to you about the moon being made of cheese?"

"Yes! Oh man, she told you that too? What is up with that?"