The rooster holds 酉, five to seven — knocking off, settling up, counting the day. In the tradition the rooster announces the hour, and announcing means accuracy: when it's time you say so, whether or not anyone wants to hear it.
You'll recognise it here: you see what isn't aligned and find it hard to pretend otherwise; you speak directly and learn afterwards that it landed as an accusation; and your standard for yourself is far higher than for anyone else, though other people feel the second one first.
Running well, the rooster is whoever holds the standard: without you a great deal slides slowly and nobody notices. It isn't a likeable role, and an organisation without it rots fast. Blocked, accuracy becomes fault-finding — the ruler measuring everything about everyone, including what doesn't matter; or turning inward into permanently falling short. The rooster's practical lesson is sorting what's worth saying. Your observations are correct; not every correct observation needs saying now. What you hold back is what gives weight to what you say.
