Reminding Tattletale that she really wanted all of her team members to spend some time around the Heartbroken, so they would know it was rarely a laughing matter.

The birds were on their way, swooping in low. They didn’t reach Chicken Little before Candy and Darlene did.

They bowled him over and began kissing his mask. The birds that had been flying in now scattered.

‘Kissing tag’ with Heartbroken. Which was not without its danger, because Flor, among many other things.

Flor looked ready to just jump on top of the heap of three kids. Chastity, barely looking, flicked out her bullwhip, catching Flor by the neck.

Nothing to do with Chastity’s powers. She really liked whips, was all. She set to reeling Flor in, pulling the whip’s length in by handfuls. Flor tried to free her neck, helped by the fact that it had encircled part of her jacket collar, and shed herself of the length of leather, stumbling as she came free.

The whip cracked out again, striking her in the rear end. Even through layers of petticoat, winter dress, and a wool jacket that hung down low enough to be a barrier, Flor yelped.

Surprise, not pain.

The commotion had slowed the procession down. People stepped in and freed Chicken Little from the two girls that pinned him.

“Jerks,” Chicken Little said, huffing and brushing himself off. “Making me look bad.”

“I think you look nice,” Candy said, sounding sweet as anything.

It was Darlene who looked crestfallen by how upset Chicken Little was. The girl wore bold lipstick despite being Aiden’s age, and it was that lipstick that marked his mask over and over places, even as he tried to look noble and normal.

Seventeen kisses to Candy’s nine.

I really don’t care.

“Can I make it up to you?” Darlene asked.

Chicken Little shrugged. Sullen. Darlene’s shoulders fell a fraction.

She likes him. Childhood crush.

Tattletale sighed.

Chicken Little continued trying to make himself look presentable, not aware of the lipstick. He shook himself off and threw his hands out to the side as part of the end of the motion. The birds that circled in the air above squawked, cried out, and scattered.

Presentation and flourish were one of the safest things Tattletale could train him in. But he did need other lessons.

“You could have backed out, called it off,” Samuel said. “You knew it was kissing tag?”

“Yeh,” Chicken Little answered.

“You know Tattletale set rules. No powers—”

“Only the mask, only if I’m game, I can call it off any time—”

“And you didn’t? And here I thought I scared you. Are you tougher than you pretend to be, Chicken L?”

“No,” Aroa said, snorting. “Not that brave.”

“Or were you smart enough to know it was a game?”

“That was a game?” the soldier that had been tasked with killing a child asked. He looked between Samuel and Tattletale.

“Test,” Samuel said, sounding dismissive.