en garde

The chicken that didn't chicken out.

Every barnyard has a pecking order: dogs on top, cats under them, chickens at the bottom — running from everything. One little chicken got tired of running. He found a sword in the dirt, way too big for him, and made up his own stance: leg up, blade out.

When the inu and the cat came by with swords of their own, he didn't run. He kicked his leg up and said two words: en garde.

The dog blinked first. Now every chicken carries a blade. They don't flee red candles — they poke them. The flock is the army, and the army doesn't fold.