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Bentbranch Meadows, Central Shroud:
The gyshal greens were crisp and fragrant as Violenne approached the stables.  It had been a busy night at Bentbranch Meadows, with one of the chocobos had gotten sick, and surgery had been performed.  As sometimes happened, there had been a problem with the girl’s laying, and she’d skipped several.  Soon she was standing in an upright, unnatural posture and her abdomen had begun to swell.
Experienced as they were, an expert from Ishgard had been called in to take a look, and delivered the diagnosis. Â The bird had mislaid, failing to form a shell, and the yolk of her eggs was left to fester inside of her. Â This required immediate surgery, and everyone showed up to watch and learn from the master.
The bird had been sedated, and the surgery was long and arduous, but it was done.  She now lie in her stable, resting and healing, thick black stitching bisected the front of her body from breast to tail.  She’d never lay again, but the Ishgardian had said that other than that she’d make a full recovery.
The whole event had been very exciting, but had delayed feeding well into the night. Â As Violenne came closer, the comforting scent of chocobos and fresh grass filled her with delight. Â Perhaps, in a few years, she might be as good as the Ishgardian surgeon had been.
“Swee swee, come on pretty girls, it’s feeding time.â€
Strangely, the chocobos didn’t react with their normal exuberant flapping at the prospect of greens, but instead seemed nervous.  Perhaps they knew about the surgery and were scared.  Violenne approached Mela, her favorite, and ran a hand along the smooth feathers of her neck, “Relax girl, there’s nothing to be afraid of.  Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise.  You’re not sick at all.â€
Mela wasn’t looking at her, though, she was looking farther into the darkness, and her whole body was tense.  Violenne turned her head to look, and she spied a pair of shadows in a stable at the end of the row.  Something about them made Violenne suddenly cower back behind Mela.
“Maybe they’s somethin’ wrong with these uns too, Thya,†said the first shadow.
“Hush it, Pahja.  There’s nothing wrong with these.  You saw ‘em bring in the knife on the one.  These birds is taken well care of, so don’t you try to weasel out.â€
“I ain’t weaslin’.  I’m just thinkin we’re goin’ through a lot of trouble fer no good reason if these turns out just the same as the others.  There’s a sickness in ‘em, I tell ya.  That’s why they’re down here.â€
The second shadow stood, and pointed something sharp at the other, “I’ll have no more of your lip tonight, you hear?  This place is a bloody goldmine and you’ll dig here or someone’ll dig your grave, got it?â€
The other shadow knocked the sharp thing away, “That don’t even make any sense.  You’re mixin’ your whatsits, your metamorphosis.  Just say you’ll slit my damned throat if you’re gonna be an arse about it.â€
“Fiiiiine,†the shadow hissed.  “I’ll slit your damned throat if ya don’t shut your gob and lash this damn bird.â€
Violenne stared wided eyed at the figures in the dark. Â She needed to tell someone, and quick! Â They had to get the wailers here. Â As she started to move Mela twisted in her stable and snapped at the gyshal greens which were suddenly leaving. Â Apparently the prospect of food moving away was more important to her than the danger the intruders posed.
Her beak caught Violenne’s finger, and she let out an involuntary shout of pain.  Panicked, she looked back down towards where she had seen the shadows, but they were gone.  Had they run away when they realized they’d been spotted?  She took another step, leaning out of Mela’s stable to be certain, and she heard a noise like a string going taut.
Something whisked by her, moving her hair, and she tried to shout again, but her voice caught in her throat, coming out as a bubbling gargle instead. Â Her breast felt suddenly warm and wet, and when she looked down she saw something dark spreading across the front of her dress, spilling from her neck. Â Things started to go dim, and the world spun for a moment, then she was on the ground, staring up at Mela, who was flapping nervously and trying to push out of her stable.
“Hell of a shot, if I do say so.â€
“Well I don’t keep ya around for your razor wit.  Come on, drag her out of the way, and get your damned arrow back.  And spread some dirt on the stain!  We ain’t got time for this nonsense.â€
Violenne felt her arm being lifted, then she was being dragged towards the stable of the chocobo who’d undergone surgery.  She was laid down next to her, and hay began to fall on her face, blotting out her vision.
“Hell of a shot.  Bet she didn’t even feel it.  Fwip!  Through and through.  Bloody art, that was.â€
“Aye, bloody art.â€
The gyshal greens were crisp and fragrant as Violenne approached the stables.  It had been a busy night at Bentbranch Meadows, with one of the chocobos had gotten sick, and surgery had been performed.  As sometimes happened, there had been a problem with the girl’s laying, and she’d skipped several.  Soon she was standing in an upright, unnatural posture and her abdomen had begun to swell.
Experienced as they were, an expert from Ishgard had been called in to take a look, and delivered the diagnosis. Â The bird had mislaid, failing to form a shell, and the yolk of her eggs was left to fester inside of her. Â This required immediate surgery, and everyone showed up to watch and learn from the master.
The bird had been sedated, and the surgery was long and arduous, but it was done.  She now lie in her stable, resting and healing, thick black stitching bisected the front of her body from breast to tail.  She’d never lay again, but the Ishgardian had said that other than that she’d make a full recovery.
The whole event had been very exciting, but had delayed feeding well into the night. Â As Violenne came closer, the comforting scent of chocobos and fresh grass filled her with delight. Â Perhaps, in a few years, she might be as good as the Ishgardian surgeon had been.
“Swee swee, come on pretty girls, it’s feeding time.â€
Strangely, the chocobos didn’t react with their normal exuberant flapping at the prospect of greens, but instead seemed nervous.  Perhaps they knew about the surgery and were scared.  Violenne approached Mela, her favorite, and ran a hand along the smooth feathers of her neck, “Relax girl, there’s nothing to be afraid of.  Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise.  You’re not sick at all.â€
Mela wasn’t looking at her, though, she was looking farther into the darkness, and her whole body was tense.  Violenne turned her head to look, and she spied a pair of shadows in a stable at the end of the row.  Something about them made Violenne suddenly cower back behind Mela.
“Maybe they’s somethin’ wrong with these uns too, Thya,†said the first shadow.
“Hush it, Pahja.  There’s nothing wrong with these.  You saw ‘em bring in the knife on the one.  These birds is taken well care of, so don’t you try to weasel out.â€
“I ain’t weaslin’.  I’m just thinkin we’re goin’ through a lot of trouble fer no good reason if these turns out just the same as the others.  There’s a sickness in ‘em, I tell ya.  That’s why they’re down here.â€
The second shadow stood, and pointed something sharp at the other, “I’ll have no more of your lip tonight, you hear?  This place is a bloody goldmine and you’ll dig here or someone’ll dig your grave, got it?â€
The other shadow knocked the sharp thing away, “That don’t even make any sense.  You’re mixin’ your whatsits, your metamorphosis.  Just say you’ll slit my damned throat if you’re gonna be an arse about it.â€
“Fiiiiine,†the shadow hissed.  “I’ll slit your damned throat if ya don’t shut your gob and lash this damn bird.â€
Violenne stared wided eyed at the figures in the dark. Â She needed to tell someone, and quick! Â They had to get the wailers here. Â As she started to move Mela twisted in her stable and snapped at the gyshal greens which were suddenly leaving. Â Apparently the prospect of food moving away was more important to her than the danger the intruders posed.
Her beak caught Violenne’s finger, and she let out an involuntary shout of pain.  Panicked, she looked back down towards where she had seen the shadows, but they were gone.  Had they run away when they realized they’d been spotted?  She took another step, leaning out of Mela’s stable to be certain, and she heard a noise like a string going taut.
Something whisked by her, moving her hair, and she tried to shout again, but her voice caught in her throat, coming out as a bubbling gargle instead. Â Her breast felt suddenly warm and wet, and when she looked down she saw something dark spreading across the front of her dress, spilling from her neck. Â Things started to go dim, and the world spun for a moment, then she was on the ground, staring up at Mela, who was flapping nervously and trying to push out of her stable.
“Hell of a shot, if I do say so.â€
“Well I don’t keep ya around for your razor wit.  Come on, drag her out of the way, and get your damned arrow back.  And spread some dirt on the stain!  We ain’t got time for this nonsense.â€
Violenne felt her arm being lifted, then she was being dragged towards the stable of the chocobo who’d undergone surgery.  She was laid down next to her, and hay began to fall on her face, blotting out her vision.
“Hell of a shot.  Bet she didn’t even feel it.  Fwip!  Through and through.  Bloody art, that was.â€
“Aye, bloody art.â€