Chapter 4
Professor Hoot's Wisdom
A wise old owl, Professor Hoot, finds the blue chicken. He recognizes the sapphire's magic and offers to guide Waffles, teaching him to control his strength.
Professor Hoot, a creature whose feathers seemed spun from twilight and whose eyes held the quiet shimmer of a thousand moons, found Waffles huddled beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient oak. The displaced silkie chicken, still vibrating with the residual shock of his temporal displacement and the sheer, bewildering blueness of his own plumage, looked less like a fearsome warrior and more like a startled blueberry that had taken a wrong turn at the compost heap.
“Hoo-hoo, my small, cerulean friend,” a voice, soft as falling snow, echoed through the hushed clearing. It was a voice that seemed to vibrate not just in the air, but deep within the very wood of the trees. Waffles, who had been attempting to preen a particularly stubborn patch of blue fluff that felt entirely alien to his usual pearly white, jumped with a startled squawk, nearly tripping over his own surprisingly sturdy, sapphire-tinged feet.
He tilted his head, his beady black eyes blinking in the dappled sunlight. Perched on a branch directly above him, almost invisible against the bark, was an owl of truly magnificent proportions. His plumage was a tapestry of muted greys and browns, but it was his eyes, large and luminous, that held Waffles captive. They seemed to see right through his fluffy exterior, past the panic, and into the very heart of his confused, chickeny soul.
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