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In the open farmyard under soft daylight, Rian stands before the wooden chicken coop, eyes wide and mouth open, loose white feathers floating around him. A single hen clucks behind the wire while empty perches show the missing birds.
Little Rian raced to the farmyard, ready to feed his hens. He stopped. The coop was nearly empty, soft feathers drifting. "Where are the chickens?" he gasped. He squared his shoulders, thinking hard.
Inside the dim hay barn, golden shafts of light cut through slats as Rian, wearing a tiny adventure hat, crouches with a magnifying glass over small footprints beside stacked hay bales, brows furrowed in determined concentration.
Rian grabbed his magnifying glass and tiny adventure hat. "Detective Rian!" he whispered. Small footprints led toward the tall hay barn. "Hmm, not chicken footprints," he said. He tiptoed inside and peeked behind bales.
At the farm edge on a breezy afternoon, Rian kneels beside rustling bushes, smiling gently at three young foxes with russet fur peeking out, soft feathers and tiny paw prints scattered on the grass around them.
More feathers, tiny paw prints, and a rustle led him outside. Bushes wiggled. "Hello?" Rian asked softly. A small fox family peered out, nervous. "We borrowed chickens for friends," one fox whispered.
Under bright sunshine in the open field, Rian laughs mid-tag, arms outstretched toward three young foxes with russet fur while nearby chickens flap happily, colorful feathers floating through clear warm air.
"You don’t need to take them to have fun," Rian smiled. "Let’s play tag and feather-pretend—no borrowing birds." The foxes nodded. Chickens clucked back happily. Together they played in sunny fields, laughing friends forever.