The old hen was held in Scarlett's hand, clucking incessantly but completely powerless to resist.
Andrew, standing nearby, was stunned. He wouldn't dare grab an old hen like that, as there was a high probability that it would peck his hand.
"Alright, this should do it."
Scarlett turned around and lifted the old hen. It was still flapping its wings and struggling.
No one would have imagined that Scarlett, who usually maintained a cold and taciturn image, could handle an old hen as easily as a girl from the countryside.
"What are you staring at? Get a piece of rope. I'll tie this hen up, or she'll run around."
"Oh."
Andrew hurried back into the house, found a plastic rope, and handed it to Scarlett. He then watched as she skillfully tied the hen's legs together and placed it on the floor inside.
"Teacher, have you killed a chicken before? Why are you so practiced at catching hens?"
"No."
