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The age-old riddle takes on new life when viewed through the lens of myth. Legend speaks of a broodmother hen who glimpsed a shadowed horizon—a storm of claws and teeth creeping toward the roost. With no time to rally the flock, she led her kin across the jagged path, talons scraping stone, wings beating against the howling winds of change. They sought not safety but the forgotten grove beyond, where the earth whispers secrets to those who listen. What awaited them? Seeds of dawn, some say. A pact with the old gods, claim others. The road, then, was never the answer—it was the first question in a saga written in feathers and blood.
