The Giant Chicken

"I thought he said its fine. He said its much better than being worship by mortals. And I wanna know how a giant chicken taste."

I replied innocently while letting go of Hermes' shoulder, my hand dropping back to my side as I looked up at the messenger god with wide, curious eyes.

He stared back at me for a long moment, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement as he brushed off the fabric of his crimson cloak where my fingers had rested. Then he shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"He doesn't taste good," I commented matter-of-factly, recalling the strange, gamey flavor that had lingered on my tongue long after that ill-advised meal.

The god let out a short laugh, the sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze.

"That's putting it mildly. You do realize you ate part of a minor deity, don't you? Not just any oversized fowl wandering the hillsides."

I shrugged, not seeing what the fuss was about.

"He looked like a chicken. A really big one with golden feathers and a crown made of twigs, but still a chicken. And he did say it was alright – said being eaten was a more honest connection to mortals than all those prayers and offerings they leave at his shrine."

Hermes ran a hand through his curly hair, looking up toward the sky as if searching for patience from the Olympians above.

"Yes, well, gods say all sorts of things when they've been sitting alone on a mountain top for three hundred years. Doesn't mean you should take them up on it." And for the record, I'm not a chicken!"

He pointed dramatically at himself, his winged sandals glittering in the marble hall's light.

"I am a god! A messenger! A bringer of news and general mischief!"

I tilted my head, studying the faint indentations on his skin with genuine confusion.

"But you pecked at the bread I left out for you first. Like a chicken would."

The god spluttered, his face turning an amusing shade of pink as he struggled for words. Before he could retort, Hera sighed heavily, running a hand through her dark, perfectly coiffed hair as she stepped forward from where she'd been observing near the throne platform.

"Eirene, dearest, gods do not taste like poultry. We are immortal beings made of divine essence." Her voice was patient but firm, and she shot Hermes a warning glare that made him shrink back slightly.

"And you - stop encouraging her predatory instincts. It's bad enough Zeus thinks you're an idiot without giving our newest member ideas."

Hermes muttered something under his breath that sounded like "wasn't encouraging anything" but wisely didn't say it aloud.

Apollo chuckled softly from behind them, leaning against a nearby column with crossed arms, his lyre resting beside him on a stone pedestal. The sun god's golden hair seemed to glow with its own light as he offered me a warm smile.

"Perhaps we should introduce Eirene to some actual animals then? Mortals keep chickens for food purposes. That way she can satisfy her curiosity without taking a bite out of the Olympian council."

I brightened at the idea, clapping my hands together excitedly.

"Actual chickens? Do they have golden feathers too? And do they talk like he did?" I nodded toward Hermes, who was now muttering about how he'd only been explaining things, not conversing like some common barnyard bird.

Hera's expression softened a little at my enthusiasm. "They do not talk, little one. And their feathers are usually white, brown, or black - though I suppose some mortals breed unusual varieties. Apollo, why don't you take her down to the mortal realm? Show her a proper farm, explain how things work there. It might help prevent... further misunderstandings."

Hermes rubbed his shoulder gingerly, still looking offended as he took a step back from the group.

"I am not an animal! And I certainly don't taste like one."

He puffed out his chest indignantly, his purple cloak billowing around him as he straightened to his full height.

"If anything, I'm more like a rare delicacy - expensive and difficult to acquire."

I blinked up at him, considering this carefully.

"So... you are edible then? Just more special?"

Hera rolled her eyes heavenward, letting out a long-suffering sigh that seemed to echo through the grand hall.

"Difficult to acquire because you're impossible to deal with," she shot back at Hermes before turning her attention back to me, her expression growing gentle as she took my small hands in hers. Her skin was warm and soft, like sunlight on polished wood.

"Sweetheart, gods aren't meant for consumption. We exist on ambrosia and nectar, which gives us eternal youth and immortality." She squeezed my fingers gently.

"Those things don't have a taste like mortal food does - they're more like... feeling alive, feeling whole. You'll understand once you've tried them properly."

I nodded slowly, though part of me was still curious about the difference between divine and mortal flavors. Apollo pushed off the column and approached us slowly, his movements graceful as he came to stand beside Hera.

"Maybe showing her some mortal creatures would help clarify things," he said, his voice carrying a note of kindness.

"We could visit the stables on Earth sometime - there are plenty of chickens there if she's truly curious about their flavor profile. I can even show her how mortals care for them and prepare them as food, so she'll know the difference between what's meant to be eaten and what isn't."

Hermes crossed his arms over his chest, still looking put-out but less defensive now.

"Fine. But if she tries to take a bite out of any other gods while we're gone, I'm telling Zeus it was all your idea, Apollo."

The sun god laughed, reaching out to ruffle Hermes' curly hair playfully before turning back to me with a warm smile.

"Shall we plan for tomorrow then? The mortals have a market day in the valley below Mount Olympus - you'll get to see all sorts of animals there, not just chickens."