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Grabbing her pestle and the map from the table, Babs hauled ass out the door before Midnight got any bright ideas about tagging along.
She realized that she'd forgotten the keys to the faster Big Bucket; she couldn't waste time ducking back inside without risking a run-in with Midnight's claws, so she turned a wary eye on the more temperamental Helmet. It would have to do, though she feared that it would be slim pickings by the time she arrived.
She needn't have worried: there had been a mix-up with the times and dates in the Albumen Abode newsletter, and Babs was first to arrive. The agent who greeted Babs at the entryway wore the standard uniform of overalls and visored straw caps on all of its heads. After taking her payment -- a jar of rendered fat and three pieces of gold -- the agent gestured for her to follow along one of the backlanes.
Babs was glad for the rainboots she'd worn as the lawn squashed under their feet. They passed by several outbuildings and then came upon a large clearing, where a flock of two or three hundred miniature-sized egg-legs ran around, following after a cut-open sack of feed strung up on a wire.
"They're beautiful!" Babs put her hands to her cheeks and grinned.
The agent gave Babs a little net and a handful of powdered calcium carbonate, and then she waded into the clacking river of egg-legs.
At first, each egg-leg looked much the same, but then Babs recited an incantation, and looked upon them anew. There, a flash of blue. There, a jagged crack. There, a glimpse of something viscous. Finally -- there, a spangled and glittering stone. Babs used her net proficiently, snagging her prize on the first try. That boded well.
She checked the egg-leg carefully, making sure that it giggled when she tickled its metatarsal pads. The egg itself felt well-weighted, and the legs coloured a pleasing yellow-green.
Babs made her way back to the agent who had waited at the fence of the enclosure. "This one, please."