[ One of the chickens—black with a fancy ruff of white feathers around its neck—runs up to Gu Yun with its wings flapping. It makes a low clucking noise, baaak baaaaaak. Instinctively knowing it wants to be picked up, he crouches down and lifts the bird, cradling it in his arms.

Idly he strokes its soft feathers. Most animals can't stand his itchy fingers, but this one doesn't seem to mind it, seeking his attention out in fact.

Chuckling helplessly, he looks up at Chang Geng. ]

With chroma.

[ A beat. His chicken, seeing that it's feeding time, struggles out of his arms, flapping to the ground and running over to join the rest of the flock. Gu Yun exhales. ]

I know what you want to ask. I've had those rings in my pocket for weeks now, waiting for the right time.

[ He smiles sheepishly, glancing away. ]

You could say this was a "right time," of sorts, but not entirely what I had in mind. Forgive me.