He Swung His Sword Upwards

It was huge—as tall as a meter and a half, with flaming red feathers and a scarlet comb. It flapped its wings, and flames arose on them. The black beady eyes were staring at Mag, glinting with hostility.

Mag thought it was some kind of ridiculously giant rooster when he first caught sight of it. This must be a fire chicken. I thought I had to look for it elsewhere. Lucky me!

He could feel the heat of its flames. He rose swiftly to his feet, stepped in front of Amy, and took several steps back.

Amy's eyes were glittering with excitement, swallowing saliva. "Such a big rooster! I like roast chicken; a steamed one is good too!"

The chicken smelt danger. It cast a terrified glance at the little girl.

Such a little foodie! Mag smiled. "I like braised chicken."

Mag handed the kitten to Amy. "Stay behind me, and let me take care of it."

"Yes, Father. Go get it, Father! I want to eat braised chicken!" Amy said, excited.