"Ma, where do chickens come from?"
A physical manifestation of innocence, that is what a child was. And this particular child is Noah, a prime example of a curious critter that aimed to learn everything it found fascinating.
"Hmm? By chicken, do you mean the food we eat or the animals raised?" A gray scaled mother replied.
Not just her, but the child and their entire house were devoid of color. This was a monochrome memory of a certain man, a far-gone memory that was now to be passed to another through unethical means.
'My apologies.'
"Is there a difference between them?" The child asked, he was certain there was only one animal named chicken.
"Yes, there are chickens grown to eat, mostly done by large farms to sell. As for the ones raised by a small family like ours, then they are a part of our family who we will have to eventually part and intake."
"Waaah, why do we have to family? That's bad!"