And the Soul Moved on.

Chapter 2

The afternoon was brisk and unyielding, chicken's eyes shut tight against the wind, nose pointed to the clouds as he huffed. Lora had never really minded the aggressive weather, as long as she had the right clothing to stay cozy. It had not snowed yet, but the sky was promising thick flakes with its gray cast and screaming winds. It was only October, but Lora knew better than to think that meant snow was not on its way.

Chicken pulled on the leash, nearly ripping Lora's arm out of its socket, and so she began to walk, leaning a bit on her heels to keep Chicken from streaming her behind him like a flag. They started down the sidewalk, and after ten steps he decided a rusted fire hydrant was a perfect place to relieve himself. As he went, Lora continued to let her curious eyes wander around the world. She watched with interest as leaves fell, dipping and turning eccentrically as the wind caught them up, then she wandered to the house next to hers, a quiet neighbor who was kind and gray.

Then her eyes wandered back to Mrs. Elmwoods, a spark of worry flashing through her again as she looked up to see Mrs. Elmwood struggling with the window, a plank of wood in hand as she fought to jam it under the pane. Her curled fingers dug into the wood with determination, and yet her face was calm, as if her fight with the window was just a normal Saturday activity. Lora couldn't bear to watch any more as chips of old wood began to fly off the edge of the trim.

"Mrs. Elmwood!" she called.

But Mrs. Elmwood had not heard her over the noise of a window crying for help. Lora tried again.

"Mrs. Elmwood!" This time she truly shouted, uncaring of the other hermit neighbors, and finally Mrs. Elmwood lowered her wrinkled head and gave a warm smile to Lora from across the street.

"Oh hello dear!" she said, small voice barely making its way to Lora. a quick glance to the left, then the right, and Lora tugged chicken alongside her to under Mrs. Elmwoods stubborn house. "Do you need any help?" she asked the old woman, feet planted firmly in place on the overgrown grass so as not to fly away in the wind with chicken. Mrs Elmwood set the plank of wood down, one pale hand raising to her chest.

"Oh, dear, you are too sweet. But I'm alright. You can do anything if you set your mind to it." she stated, hand now raising with a pointed finger to shake in the air. With one final mighty lift of her plank, and a screeching groan of the house, Mrs. Elmwood successfully lifted the window and stuck the wood in between, effectively jamming it open. It hung at an angle, like the house had given in but not without resistance, and Mrs. Elmwood swiped her hands together and then stuck them on her wide hips. She grinned triumphantly down at Lora, who was still being tugged by Chicken.

"Oh, wow. I'm glad you got it! Be careful!" Lora added as she was finally swept away by a hyper focused husky, and Mrs. Elmwood waved at her as she went. Now they were on the other side of the street, but it did not matter to Chicken, and he huffed and puffed as he strained against his collar, begging to be free. This is how it always was, and Lora knew the routine well. This is also why she enjoyed going on walks so much, because it allowed her to be as free as Chicken, with no human responsibilities or weights. Chicken gave another mighty tug, and Lora prepared herself with a deep breath of cold air, slipped the tote's straps over her head so it stayed secure against her back, then jumped once on the balls of her feet; and took off.

Flying with Chicken was the most freeing thing Lora has ever done, ever felt, as the strength of the leash kept her aloft just enough so she could run faster than she ever could alone. The only noise was the whistle of the wind, the click of Chickens nails on the concrete, and Loras pounding steps. Her hair lifted and took flight as well, streaming behind her like a ribbon, and the grin on her lips almost grew too wide for her face. Chicken used to be faster, so fast that Lora could never keep up and she either had to force him to slow or risk being swallowed up by the sidewalk. But now that he was much older, Lora could nearly run beside him, and they would eat up the steps together.