Nannup is not a place that hurries. The trees don't hurry. The air doesn't hurry. Even the light takes its time deciding where to land.

Souci was on the fence post. The bus was leaving. Georgia was on it. The WA Chapter of the Thunderclucks had just decided that a small lost sloth was absolutely their business now.

One farm. One sloth. A circle of extremely opinionated free-range poultry and something waiting to begin.

Get comfy. Make sure your ears are nice and warm.