Here is my special 1,500 followers pattern! (Sorry I'm a little late with making this pattern...) This pattern includes a snake plushie and a chicken plushie. The snake took me about 5 hours to finish and the chicken took about 30 minutes to finish. The time depends on how experienced or fast you are. Please don't copy, sell, or claim this pattern as your own! Have a good time crafting!!!

--Snake and Bird Lore--

Nutmeg had just returned home from her hunting class when she saw terrible news - Her parents were lying on the floor motionless. She gasped loudly and went to inspect the scene. She flicked her tongue to get a sense of her parents to check if they still had heat. They were both cold.
Her father's body was lying on the floor of their kitchen next to a spilled bowl of raw meat stew. Nutmeg's father had been preparing it for the family to enjoy for supper. The fireplace was still burning and crackling with a charred rat kabob roasting above it. The smell seemed to comfort her. The spilled bowl of stew was made with herbs from Nutmeg's garden and some game that had previously been caught the night before. Her father had a blank, dead expression.
Her mother's body was spread across Nutmeg's vegetable garden. Her mother had been gripping a watering can with her thin tail before she fell on the floor. The scene had looked as if nothing happened, just with two dead snakes lying on the floor.
Nutmeg brought her fathers' body next to her mother's body on the bottom left side of her garden. She further went to inspect her garden. There was a small slug crawling on the opposite side of the garden on a large green leaf, a cheerful wren flicked his tail and hopped off the branch he was standing on, and a little brown chicken with a small woven pouch peeked her head over Nutmeg's garden wall and swiftly brought her head down. Nutmeg stopped her inspecting and slithered over to see what the distraction was.
Nutmeg said shakily as she went to grab a knife from the kitchen; "Hey, who is here? Show yourself!" The little brown chicken popped her head up and darted to the nearest branch. Nutmeg swiftly followed her. She only caught a glimpse of the little chicken's comb."I will find you and end you just as you ended my parents." The little brown chicken hopped quickly up to the canopy of the nearest tree and looked back to see if Nutmeg had been close to catching her. Nutmeg had still been trying to slither to the top of the tree. The little brown chicken leaped in the air and flapped her wings unsteadily to try to glide down to the ground. She got control of her wings and swiftly glided down to the ground. She plopped on the floor and a small, bloody knife dipped in poison fell out of her pouch. She quickly regained her balance and started running as fast as she could, not stopping to notice the piece of evidence that she had just left behind. Nutmeg was still slithering to the top of the tree. She looked down and saw the little brown chicken's bloody knife. Nutmeg then saw the little brown chicken running away and decided not to chase her. She wondered why a chicken of all creatures would venture this far into the eastern territory where predators were abundant.
Nutmeg dropped down from the tree clumsily, falling on a spider web inside a bush. She knocked a small spider off her head and slithered over to inspect the knife. It was incredibly small. The perfect size for a little chicken to grasp with their talons.
"Why would a pullet just murder two snakes out of the blue It's not like they would use the bodies in any of their foods. UnlessThey were using the kills for reputation and trade." Nutmeg seemed like she had no opinion of her parents' death. In the territory that she lived in, the territory leader believed that kills were a source of reputation and honor throughout their land. Young ones were sometimes raised by ones that were not their original parents, since deaths were so common, others would take part in raising the abandoned young onesOr sometimes just murder them for enjoyment and a little snack.
Nutmeg picked up the small knife and brought it back to her house. She carefully examined her parent's bodies and found a small cut on each of their heads. Nutmeg knew that her parents weren't skilled in fighting and were of the rare portion of caretakers that actually cared about raising their young.
Continuing the examination, Nutmeg discovered that the poison that the knife was dipped in was a solution of two uncommon plants that grew near the western prey side of the territory. Nutmeg had only seen the solution once before when she was much younger. It was likely that those poisonous plants were already extinct from predators using them to poison each other.
Nutmeg cleaned off all of the poison and dried blood and carefully sampled as much of the poison as she could. She put as much as she could into a small vial. She sloshed the mixture and placed it into a small, ornate wooden box. She then returned to the exact place where the little brown chicken left the knife and placed it back on the ground. She then went back to her house and out of fear and knowledge that her life was in danger, she decided to sleep in a hidden place in her room.
The little brown chicken ran all the way to an abandoned predator's house where lots of older chickens and fowls of all sorts lived. The house was heavily fortified with ragged wood spikes tied together to form a stake wall. There was a rugged wooden outpost towering over the south side of the house This was one of the rare prey sanctuaries on the eastern side of the territory.
The chicken panted heavily as she hobbled into the sanctuary. Two guards pointed their spears at her. She scratched the ground with her talons in a complex pattern that was most likely a Featheren phrase, and a soft golden glow glimmered from the ground in the place where she scratched. The guards lowered their spears, and let her walk through. The chicken regained her breath. She walked over to an older veteran chicken who had a long, black tail and an ominous, thick, long scar ran through the center of his left eyeball. His crest feathers seemed to be terribly unkept and scruffy.
The old chicken spoke in a weary, hoarse voice. He looked at the little brown chicken's pouch. He noticed that it was open.
"Young one, why is your pouch open? You know not to leave things open like that." The little brown chicken threaded the drawstrings of her bag through the holes in her bag to close it. She then found out that she had left her knife back at Nutmeg's house. She replied "ItILost my knife." She was frantically searching her pouch. She saw the poison plants that she used to make the poison concoction were still in the bag. She was afraid that Nutmeg would find out that she worked for a prey assassin cult.
The old chicken grabbed the little brown chicken's neck with his old and rugged talons. And shook the little brown chicken.
"You have doomed us all! If you leave your knife behind, the snakes are sure to find out." The old chicken tore off the little brown chicken's pouch from her neck to inspect it. There were little chicken-scratch engravings etched in the little leather pouch that read "Pistachio." "Pistachio is your name. What a weak name." said the old chicken. He threw Pistachio and her bag on to the floor and hobbled away. Pistachio got back up, but her leg twisted badly as she fell. She got her bag and she frowned at the old chicken as he walked away. She limped over to a pile of dead leaves and straw next to the outpost and placed her pouch on the ground behind her. She decided to settle in for the night.
Nutmeg had been up all night thinking about her parents and the chicken that had come to murder her parents. She cried softly to herself. She knew that crying about your dead relatives was unheard of in the territory since deaths were so common and normalized, but still, she felt sorrowful.
Nutmeg had decided that she would skip her class tomorrow and study the concoction. And possibly venture outside of the land that she knew. Into the unknown. The next morning, she made a leather bag using some leftover leather that was hanging around as decoration and a remembrance to all the game that her father had hunted. After she had finished, she threw it around her neck. She tied the strap to her neck so it would not fall off. Nutmeg located the ornate wooden box with the vial inside of it and she took out the vial and put it into her bag. She put necessary supplies for her little expedition to venture into the unknown
Nutmeg slithered outside, her parents bodies were rotting away and vermin were already scavenging the remains. She looked back at her house, her garden, and her parents bodies one last time before leaving.
She slithered beyond the tree where she chased Pistachio. Nutmeg looked back to see if the knife was still there. The knife appeared to be missing from the point where she placed it the day before. She looked around to see if Pistachio was there. The wind howled and the trees shook, storm clouds gathered above her. A loud thunder bang struck and the sky lit up. There were giant birds flying across the sky above the clouds. They were most likely Skyfeathers churning up the skies. Nutmeg sighed and slithered around the area. A brown flash of feathers scurried past her. It stopped right behind her. It was Pistachio and she had come back to acquire her knife back.
Nutmeg backed away slowly, she breathed heavily. She looked behind her and there was Pistachio, glaring back at her with an angry expression. Pistachio gripped her small knife with her beak. She looked different than how she did the day before. She had braces on her ankles, likely to protect her but they looked aesthetically pleasing. Nutmeg complimented her braces. Pistachio glared and ran toward Nutmeg. She leaped into the air and spun with ease. As she flew in the air, she tossed the knife up and grabbed it with her left talon. She threw it at Nutmeg but she dodged and grabbed the handle with her mouth and lunged her tail at Pistachio. She grasped her body and started to squeeze her like a constrictor snake would've done.
Pistachio wriggled and flapped her wings hastily, her feathers were flying everywhere. Nutmeg spat out the knife and brought her head closer to Pistachio. She opened her mouth to speak but Pistachio suddenly headbutted her and flew loose. Nutmeg rubbed her head with her tail.
"Wait I just want to speak with you" Pistachio turned around. She chanted an ancient Featheren phrase, her eyes glowed the same color as the ground did when she scratched it outside of the prey camp. A flash of light blinded Nutmeg, stunning her unconscious. Pistachio dragged her to a nearby cave that she had located on the way to her prey camp. It was already nighttime however when she had arrived at the cave.
Pistachio surprisingly set up a pile of leaves for Nutmeg. She laid Nutmeg down on the pile of leaves and went outside to catch fireflies for light. She brought an empty jar with her to catch them. This cave had seemed to have already turned into a home, there were empty jars for food, lighting and storage hanging on the roof of the cave on some large roots that were dangling. Old string and ropes were woven at the entrance of the cave to form a curtain door. There was an old carved table just opposite of where Nutmeg had been sleeping.
Pistachio had returned to the cave with herbs and seeds that chickens would find tasty. She had also captured lots of fireflies to just light up the cave. The fireflies flickered. Pistachio set up a campfire outside of the cave and had gone outside to capture a mouse to roast for Nutmeg. The campfire crackled and spit little bits of charcoal. The stars in the night sky glowed and there was silence all around for miles, not even a cricket chirped.
Nutmeg woke up and was still lightheaded from the flash of light that blinded her. She looked around in shock at the place, it seemed to be almost comforting. Perhaps it was from the lights, or the smell of the mouse burning but it could make up for a home. Nutmeg got up from her leaf pile bed and slithered around to look at the place. She did not remember anything about Pistachio dragging her here. She just remembered the flash of light that blinded her. Nutmeg had slithered left out of the cave to try and go unnoticed by Pistachio, who was cooking the mouse to the right just outside of the cave.
Pistachio whipped her head around and glared at Nutmeg. "What are you doing? Are you leaving the only place that is safe around?" Nutmeg was confused by this, she knew that the predators on the eastern side of the territory were ruthless murderers and she was taught to avoid them. She knew about all the safe places near her home in case of an emergency.
"This is a safe placeWell it does seem pretty hidden." Nutmeg remarked. Pistachio smiled and flipped over the cooking mouse. "Yea this place was the best one I could find. My mentor expected me to retrieve my knife. I knew that he was following me but he is nowhere near as fast as I am. I decided to knock you out and drag you to this cave so it looked like you were dead. Just in case my mentor questioned me. I knew you would be unconscious for a long time, perhaps more time than when you woke up. I guess my little spell did not work enough for a snake. It would probably end a chicken though."
Nutmeg sighed and looked up to the stars. The campfire spewed flaming bits of charcoal in the air. A soft hum of a flute occupied the silent night. Nutmeg looked at Pistachio and saw that she had been playing an instrument that she had never seen before. It was a Featheren flute. It was a small stick with three holes on the top of it. The hole where you blew into it was the perfect size for a small beak. It was made with a light colored wood with dark wood striations. There were small feathers, flowers and leafy patterns painted on the entire instrument. The flute made a sound similar to that of a songbird. Nutmeg had relaxed and Pistachio had continued to play her flute.
Nutmeg now knew that not all in this territory were bad. Nutmeg had nothing to keep except a hide bag and a small vial of poison. The only thing that was left was to travel the world of Kruhoia, out of the territory. Into the unknown. With her newest companionPistachio the chicken!