Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

Cock Grabbing

Hank tried not to be too eager when he noticed Richard out near the coop. He wouldn't want him to get the idea that he'd been waiting for him, even if it was true. After leaving him up at the stables, Hank had returned to finish his morning rounds with Connor. The sheep were settled, safe and content under Sixty's watchful eye, the pigs were fed and mucked, the donkeys were out to pasture, and he'd even checked on the eggs in his own coop. Tina and the other hens were in the coop warming their eggs, eagerly waiting for them to hatch. A few were still laying even now, adding more fertile eggs to the clutch. Gavin was antsy as ever, skulking and hopping along the fence, looking for Nines. He'd run up to greet Hank, clawing the ground hopefully as he entered, but was ultimately disappointed when he left after topping up the feed. That was all part of the plan.

After returning to the house, Hank tidied up a little, keeping a constant eye out through the front window. It felt like it took a long time, and maybe it did. Richard probably had his share of work to do around the stables, feeding and grooming the mare before turning her loose to graze with the others. Seeing him return, Hank waited around and watched as he headed into the house. He changed out of his riding gear, swapping the tight pants for worn jeans and the quilted jacket for a loose white top. The outfit didn't hug his figure as well, but that just drew Hank's eye more. It would be so easy to just slide a hand up the back of that shirt and trace the pale skin beneath, or steal a glance at his pecs along the loose neckline.

Since he didn't want to seem too eager, Hank waited until Richard had already entered the coop before leaving the house. Sumo barely raised his head as he left, content to stay on the cool kitchen tiles. Connor, on the other hand, bounded out on his heels, as always. Dark eyes looked up curiously as he made his way across the yard, and it didn't take him long to spot Richard in the coop. Hank huffed fondly as Connor shot off across the yard, panting and barking in greeting as he jumped at the fence. His ears drooped slightly as Richard balked, the bucket almost slipping as he flinched and turned to face him. As ever, his eyes were filled with fear until he noticed Hank not too far behind.

"Connor! Down, boy." Connor followed the guiding hand on his head and returned to all fours, tail wagging as he turned in a circle and sat. "You have good timing. I was just about to bring Gavin over," Hank said, keeping a placating hand on the top of Connor's head. It wasn't exactly a lie. He'd planned to give him a playdate with Nines. He'd just been waiting for Richard to arrive first. It was almost like Nines heard him as he flapped and hopped at the mesh between them, crowing mournfully. Richard eyed him with more than a hint of apprehension. He wasn't scared of him, but picking him up and handling him never seemed to end well.

"Uh...Sure, I guess that wouldn't hurt." Nines had pretty much done his job at this point. The hens had laid and were currently nursing their eggs. With the hens spending more time inside the coop, Nines had more time to dwell on Gavin as he crowed at the mesh and pecked the ground. He hesitated to say he looked more depressed than usual, but there was a definite droop in his tail and a drag in his scraping feet. Hank chuckled softly as he signalled Connor to zip across the yard.

"Don't worry, I'll help you wrangle Nines when I get back." Richard could do it himself. It was just a little more challenging for him. Unlike Hank, he'd only been working with chickens for a few short months. Hank probably had years of chicken farming under his belt. Considering his experience, it was really no surprise when he returned a few minutes later with Gavin securely tucked under his arm. The scruffy brown rooster didn't even put up a fight, happily cooing and bobbing his head until Hank placed him on the ground.

"How do you do that? He doesn't even kick!" Gavin's feet were kept tucked against his chest until he was set down, and even then he didn't flap his wings until Hank's hands were clear. It was almost like he'd been trained, but Richard had never heard of anyone training chickens. Seeing Nines, Gavin skipped his way to the mesh and bobbed his head, clucking and cooing as he fluffed and ruffled his feathers.