Warriors With Chickens: Book One: Into The Forest

Chapter 1

It is early morning and a large chicken coop opens as Busters nowing owner opened the door. Two dozen hens and four cockerels, including himself, clamor out of the walkway.
"Hey Buster, look what I found." Buster heard his friend dusty, a brown cockerel, cluck from up ahead.
"What? I swear, if it's another hornets nest I will pluck you." Buster called back.
"No, it's this rock." Dusty replied, pecking at a large see-through orange rock.
"Hey, isn't that called amber?" Buster clucked inquisitively.
"I think, but I know it's called shiny." Dusty shrugged before going back to mess with it. He tended to enjoy messing with anything shiny, or colorful, when the two were hatched Dusty was probably most easily found playing with feathers shed by the top cockerels.
Something was odd about this rock, it felt like there was something confusing and mysterious about it.
"Hey, Buster, I dare you to climb onto the coop, and crow before Major does." Dusty cackled.
"And I dare you to challenge a copperhead to a staring contest." Buster replied smartly.
"Hey, not fair, that would kill me." Dusty joked.
"And crowing before Major wouldn't, you know he doesn't like young cockerels, he'd impale me with his spurs before I would get down from the top of the coop." Buster complained.
"Come on, scaredy worm, nothing will happen." Dusty chided.
"Fine, I'll go." Buster finally agreed.
Soon Buster had jumped to the top of the coop and looked down at Dusty. Dusty looked at him encouragingly and Buster then gathered his thoughts. He then stood strait and tall, beat his wings, and made the best attempt at crowing that his moon-old voice could muster. Before Buster could even think of getting down he was knocked down by a huge feathery boulder.
With a loud crow Major had knocked him off the top of the coop and pinned to the ground.
"What do you think you're doing little chick." Major hissed angrily.
Buster looked horrified as he saw the huge cockerel lift his foot. The rooster's huge spur glinted in the sunlight as he thought about when he should impale the little chick he had pinned below him. Buster remembered the last rooster that had crossed Major. The next day the poor bird had been stabbed all over and left to rot outside the henhouse.
Before Major had time to do anything there was an uproar of furious clucking as a small brown feathery blur rammed into the huge cockerel. Buster had but a few seconds to get up as he saw his mother squawking angrily at Major.
"And what do you think you are doing!" The angry hen clucked, her beak a beetles length from Major's face. "Trying to kill a chick, and for what, crowing?"
"This is my territory, I own this place, I don't care about who decides to mess around." Major clucked.
"Well leave my chick alone." Buster's mother growled.
Buster kicked the brown hen off of him and strutted off.
"And don't think you are getting out of this easily." Buster's mother turned to face the little red and brown chick. "Why would you do that, you knew he would get at your throat for trying something like that."
"Sorry, it was a dare, I just wanted to look and see what it would be like to act like I'm on top of the world." Buster shrugged somewhat sadly.
"Well, maybe one day you will. If Major can become top cockerel, I'm sure you can. He was hatched on the same day as I was. Probably the stupidest bird I've ever seen." Buster's mother comforted her chick. "And I won't let a rooster that stupid attack my chick." She finished.
"Sorry mother." Buster finally clucked.
"Uhh, you know, your father would have done the same exact thing." The little hen finally sighed.
Buster felt his feathers raise at the mention of his father. His father was a large proud rooster. He would have been top cockerel, but not long after Major was old enough to fight, the nowing had sold him.
"What do you mean?" Buster inquired with his small head tilted.
"He always thought he could do anything. He was probably your age when he tried to get the lead rooster at the time to get angry. He threw dust at him and mixed ants into his dust bathing spot." The brown hen recalled. "That cockerel was mean enough to make Major look like a broody hen. Eventually the big angry bird had enough, and about killed your father."
"What happened to that rooster?" Buster peeped inquisitively.
"The nowing killed him, he attacked the barn cat and so the nowing took him out." The dark hen clucked. "You know you should get to sleep."
"Okay mother." Buster chirped.
The little red and brown chick strutted off. He walked over to his and Dusty's favorite roosting spot, a small hole in the ground that led under the henhouse. There sat a pile of straw, and a large collection of shiny rocks, brought there by Dusty. One rock caught his eye, the orange light hit his eye. The bit of amber from that morning. He sat down and grabbed the amber in his beak. He placed it next to himself and quickly fell asleep.
That night Buster had a very strange dream. He stood in a dark clearing clearing and quickly looked around. In the middle of the clearing there was his amber stone. He began walking towards it, but before he could get to it it flipped into the air. The stone flew higher and higher as he watched it. Eventually it was far above the trees. The stone quickly flashed with blinding light and brightened the clearing. He looked where the stone had been, only to see the sun.
Quickly, Buster woke up. Dusty was clearly out foraging because he was not in the sleeping hole. Buster decided to take a walk into the forest, to clear his raging thoughts.
He preened his mottled brown and red feathers, and his golden cape, and snuck through the fence into the outside world.