Primrose Egghart's Arc

Chapter 10 of 10

Primrose watches the egg from where she sits. The creature's claws dig into her shoulder, its wings still trembling against her neck. Then the egg rocks forward slightly, just enough to tip toward the basket. It rolls once, twice, slow and deliberate across the scattered feathers. The creature launches off her shoulder so fast it scratches her skin through the fabric. It shoots past her reaching hands and catches the egg mid-roll, wrapping its small body around the lavender shell. The egg stops moving. The creature's wings spread wide, shielding the egg from view, and for a moment everything goes still except the creaking door. Primrose stands slowly, careful not to startle them. The creature turns its head to look at her, purple eyes wide and fierce. It doesn't trust her yet, not with this. She understands. The egg chose the creature first, long before it chose to lead her anywhere. She picks up her basket and takes a wreath from inside, one she made that morning with bleached branches and pink flowers. She hangs it on the gate post beside the chicken coop's entrance, marking the spot without claiming it. Then she walks three steps back and sits again. The creature watches her for a long moment. Its wings fold slowly against its back. It lifts the egg and carries it to the basket Primrose left on the threshold, then sets it gently inside among the moss and straw. The lavender shell gleams in the filtered light. The creature looks at Primrose again, then at the egg, then back. It's asking something. Primrose nods once. The creature chirps softly and settles on the basket's rim, one small hand resting on the egg. Primrose stays where she is. The egg doesn't need to be in her hands to be found. It's here, finally still, finally safe in a place it chose for itself. The creature's wings relax completely now, no longer trembling. Above them, the chicken coop's windows reflect the afternoon light, and somewhere inside, she hears the soft rustling of other eggs waiting to hatch. She's found what she was looking for. Not by chasing or grabbing, but by learning when to wait. The egg rocks once more, gentle and content, and the creature hums a sound like welcome. Primrose smiles and doesn't move. The hunt is over.