Almost nothing interesting ever happens in Deidre's little village, outside of the occasional traveling merchant or troupe of players visiting the marketplace. So it's no wonder that she spends her every free moment designing and building outlandish contraptions, and then relying on her semi-autonomous tongue to get her out of trouble—or dig her in deeper—when the device inevitably slimes Momma with something. Then that self-proclaimed were-chicken hunter rode in. His tall tales of shape-shifting chicken-beasts cock-a-doodling at the moon were good for a laugh until it looked like they were true. Will Deidre be able to catch the monster before suspicions, accusations and eight feet of giant chicken tear her homeland apart?