The chocobo-pulled cart came to a stop within the courtyard of the Don's mansion. A group of henchmen bustled about it, taking deliveries inside. The raw Cloud-chicken lay on the wooden slats at the bottom of the cart, considering his next move.
There weren't many options. He could transform back and attempt to fight his way through the crowds of henchmen taking care of the delivery, endangering himself and potentially Tifa. Or he could wait, maintain the pretense of being poultry until he was in an area free of guards, then morph back, and save her with minimal effort and danger.
It turned out that maintaining the pretense of being a chicken was really quite easy; and consisted of allowing himself to be manhandled by one of the henchmen and carried through a side-entrance, down a passageway, and into a kitchen, where he was placed down on one of the worktops and left alone. The Morph Materia, which had tumbled about precariously during transit, came to a rest inside.
The last vestiges of his human heat leeched out into the cold marble of the worktop.
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