Hissing, hackles lifting, the chicken's head rose.

Kahlan pulled back.

Its claws digging into stiff dead flesh, the chicken slowly turned to face her. It cocked its head, making its comb flop, its wattles sway.
---
"Come and get me, mister." she snapped.

She felt its cold breath on her face. A sharp, cold breath.

She felt a rush of cold breath against her lips.

The chicken's voice made her heart beat faster.

She felt her hands move. She opened her mouth. She took a deep breath.

A chill ran down her back.
---
She closed her eyes, feeling the coolness.

"Oh, God!"

She said it out loud.

She felt the chill on her back. She wrapped her arms around it. She hugged the chicken tight.

She felt the chill in her face. She shut her eyes.
---
She was shivering.

Her heart was hammering, her mind racing. She thought, how many times do I need to say that chicken? How many times do I need to remind myself that chickens are wonderful?

She felt a warm, soft, delicious, comforting feeling. She held chicken against her body, enjoying the warm, feathery feeling on her skin.
---
Suddenly, she felt the chicken's warm, soft beak and wondered what would happen if she took a step backward or pulled her hands away from the chicken.

She felt the chicken's beak nip at her and it seemed to be saying, no! Do you have any idea of how I want to be treated?
---
The chicken's voice.

The chicken's mouth.

The chicken's hands.

The chicken's legs.

She felt it.

She felt the heat.

She felt the power.

And, finally, she felt it.

The warmth inside her body.

It was a power she had never felt before,

but it was all she could take.

And the chicken cried out.