Hatchet struts by on the street, but stops abruptly, sensing that something is... off.
She peeks around the corner, "That... that looks like a detective of some sort...?" The sleuthy chicken in Hatchet's view emits a paranoid but keen aura, along with perplexion across her face. Like she's onto something. Ready to accuse.
"And I look..." Hatchet looks down at her fluff, studded with various shades of deep reds, surrounding her makeshift hatchet, "...guilty!!
