The Mighty Rooster


By Briar

He was the mighty rooster, a god among his kind. His voice could be heard for miles around, announcing every sunrise. He was handsome, proud, and arrogant. The hens would gather around to admire his large comb, his iridescent black feathers, his well formed beak, his muscular legs, and his gleaming eyes. He was altogether perfect. He would strut around the yard for hours, fluffing out his feathers to look as large and powerful as possible. After all, he was the mighty rooster.

He allowed no other rooster near his flock. He had a favorite hen, a beauty, with dark feathers, and slender legs. She was exceedingly agile, could outrun, and outfight all the other hens.

There was a smaller, light colored hen that spent all her time with the dark one. She couldn't stand the rooster. He thought it was probably just jealousy. Sometines at night he would roost beside his favorite hen, and the light one would have to sleep on the other side. She would squawk and scold, but he would ignore her completely. After all, He was the mighty rooster.