><The Next Step><

[Stan]

The Story So Far…
A herd’s-worth of cattle believe themselves to be on the way to the slaughterhouse; in fact, they’ve been bought by a hobbyist farmer with equal interest in rescue work and rare breeds. Their trailer rattles up to the farm, where the local denizens look on with various levels of interest.
Original Thread

The last three posts:
<Madisa drooped against the trailer wall upon being nudged, her arthritic old legs shakey with the effects of blood loss. She turned her head, a little too quickly, such that her eyes didn't quite catch up and rolled like she was about to go down. However, she soon was able to focus her sights on the white cow whose muzzle had brushed her side, and moments later her brain processed the inquiry. Upon realizing what she was being asked, Madisa wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for the pale Brahman, or laugh. She settled for laughing, a dry wheezing chuckle at this point>
"They're just afriad, darlin'. Of where they're going. I don't think I'll have to worry though; doubt I'll make it there."
<In actuality, Madisa was in no immediate danger of dying; she was suffering from the effects of an electrolye imbalance, and perhaps a touch of hypocalcemia from her last lactation cycle. Lactated ringer and a shot of calcium - all ready and waiting at their destination - would almost definately patch her up right. From there it was a matter of keeping her wounds from becoming infected.>
"I hear it goes easier when you don't struggle, but I say give 'em hell."
<She winked at the white cow, then turned away and contined to stare despondantly at the cold steel, head drooping and a frothy, dehydrated drool caking her pink and black mouth.>
<Canisp, meanwhile, had taken her face away from the holes in the trailer's sides. Her eyes were wide and rolling, white all the way around. Extending her thick, masculine neck - the side effect of breeding that focused on heavy, muscular cows instead of lactating ones - she let out a loud bellow of senseless terror. Looking around the trailer, her breaths coming quicker now, the cow stamped the steel floor with her hoofs, causing the floor to vibrate and rattle>
"We're turning down a road! A dirt road! The slaughterhouse must be close."
<She backed up until her rump brushed the way, starting when the cold steel touched her rump, then charged at the trailer door, skidding to a stop on the urine and feces soaked metal just short of hitting it. Lowering her head, she aimed her strange, drooping horns towards the walls of the trailer and began slamming against the metal. She was hitting hard enough that little bits of hair were rubbing off and sticking to the metal. It would only be a matter of time before she broke a horn, or cut her head. Thankfully, they were nearly at their destination...>


"But, Madisa-" Nop stared at her fellow cow in puzzlement- struggle? Why would she struggle against someone who didn't mean her harm... unless... could it be possible that they were going to a slaughterhouse? Surely not. That simply didn't make sense- there were more Brahman here than normal cattle, and thus they were going somewhere nice that didn't end with a stunner and a knife. Unless the men hadn't noticed that the trio were special, and had got them thinking them normal cattle... in which case, they would be going to the slaughterhouse. What if everyone there was blind? Then they wouldn't be able to tell that they weren't good for killing, and... and... "Madisa!"
:Gillipolas snorted, eyes rolled, at the sound of her sister's panicked voice. Canisp's panic only heightened the more high-strung white Brahman's fear, and she would have been beating her hornless head against the side of the trailer if she was not so focused on the door, waiting for the vehicle to stop and some horrible monster to attack them, drag them off to become someone's dinner. Perhaps if she charged at whatever human she saw, she could escape like those cattle at the stockyard had. Of course, if she were less the fool she could be free right now, rather than heading to her doom.
:Nazir blinked, breaking from his trance at Canisp's cry, cast his an annoyed glance back at her before returning his attention to the road. Yes, yes, it had changed to dirt. That hardly seemed reason to start beating one's head against a metal wall. Particularly if said wall was moving, and breaking through it would accomplish nothing other than injury. The dark bull snorted, head dipping and one forehoof scraping against the bottom of the trailer. Perhaps the cow was not the best individual to direct his aggression towards, but he preferred such to attacking an inanimate object.
"You. Stop that. It's not going to help anything. Maybe if we-"
:Nazir was cut short as the vehicle ground to a halt, throwing up a short spray of dirt and gravel. The bull let loose a short terrified bellow before he surged forward, pushing aside a confused Nop and nearly crashing into Madisa. He stopped before doing so, a bastion of pity granting him momentary lucidity. He didn't have the right to further the old heifer's troubles. Of course, he wasn't in the best situation himself- him, a great bull, bos indicus, special, was about to be ground into who-knows-what. Not without a fight...:

"What's that?" Ren'ai hopped atop the old grey bucket that she had made her observation perch.
"It's a trailor, you idiot." Devi hopped up beside her red and black fellow, nearly knocking the smaller bird down.
"She knows that. I wonder what's in there?" Kshatriya's head shot up from where she was pecking at the dry, dusty ground, eyes staring intently at the approaching vehicle.
"Ooh, let me see!" Yolki-Palki bounded from across the yard, all legs and fluffing feathers. Her charge, Jingjie, meandered after, his eyes staring blurrily off into space.
"You're the one standing behind me-" Kshatriya chuckled, briefly forgetting the possible dangers of the trailer.
"Quiet!" Devi, there.
"What do you think we're going to hear?" Realia had finally made her way across the yard, and now considered the younger, shorter tempered hen with raised brows.
:Momentary silence from the gaggle of hens.
"Well, I want to know what's in the trailer."
"Pigs."
"Cows."
"Horses."
"Obviously sheep, ladies." Sian, her voice gentle.
:Another moment of silence, broken by the sound of a bellow.
"Told you it was cows."
"Oh dear. That's not very interesting- we already have one of those. Yolki-Palki wandered back to where she had been perusing some interesting bug prospects, clucking at Jingjie when the rooster looked confused.
:Litost, meanwhile, was hiding in the doorway to the chicken coop, feathers slicked to her thin form, eyes wide and bloodshot. The other hens had obviously dismissed the threat too soon- half of them milled about the short fence, as if this was some sort of show. This was obviously a life or death situation they belittled!:


~Blyn was wondering whether to join in the conversation about the coming trailer, or tell the other hens to please shut the hell up and give her some peace and quiet. She finally decided on a third option that came into her brain: Ignore them and pretend that she was the only hen around on a nice, quiet farm.

The Dominique hen bounded casually onto another nearby crate, sharp eyes observing the coming trailer. She personally thought that there were goats in there, considering that they didn't have any yet, and the farmer had a penchant for bringing home animals he didn't own yet. Algon the sheep was a good example -- They hadn't had any sheep for a while and then poof! In came a sheep on a trailer. They already had chickens, cows, cats, horses, and even owls, and the trailer looked too big for pigs (not that Blyn knew anything about trailer sizes). So of course goats must be next.

Blyn lost her own personal bet; goats didn't bellow. Apparently the farmer was bringing home cows for some reason. Ah, well. Maybe these were some special cows that he didn't have yet. Blyn didn't realize how correct she was, and instead watched the trailer with casual interest, ignoring the louder specimens of her kind. It was rather easy after dealing with them for so long.

Ranford and Tate were far more interested in the events. Cattle themselves, hearing others of their species approaching had both of them perked up with interest, watching the trailer with faint apprehension after their own experience with it. Still, they were happier more than anything else; there weren't many other cattle at the farm, and being a social species, both were excited at the prospect of others.

Well, excited in their own ways; Ranford was energetically pacing about like a puppy, eyes glued on the trailer. Though already a year old, he had an endless amount of energy, making him seem much more equine than bovine. Tate, another Hereford, was much more mellow. In fact, she was watching Ranford like he was positively nuts, and was beginning to worry that the new cattle would think him beserk.

The other herbivore near them just found it funny.

"Excited little bugger, isn't he?"

Tate nodded quietly at Algon's words. The ram looked up at the cattle with a pleasant smile on his face, but when no response came, he resumed grazing. He showed very little interest in the new cattle -- Indeed, the only thing fascinating about them was how they sent Ranford into an energetic frenzy. Considering anything sent that steer going, it wasn't something he would spend too much time worrying about. Perhaps Tate would learn the same strategy, but he doubted it; if she hadn't learned Ranford was antsy by now, she never would.~

[RandomWiktor]

___Thamboor could hear and smell the other cattle long before the trailer became visible along the long dirt road leading to the farm. Hunkered in the shade of willow tree adjacent to a small pond on the property, the steer rose to his feet and shook out his pelt, scattering dust and more than a few flies. He sniffed the air deeply, ears perched forward and alert, trying to find out anything he could about the new arrivals. All he could gather was that there were several of them - including a bull, they were all frightened, and one of them was injured. This was nothing new. Most of the animals brought here from auction were in a similar state. The only thing that made this arrival noteworthy to him was the fact that they were cattle. Approaching the fence where Tate and Ranford were eagerly watching the trailer though still keeping several yards back, the steer silently and patiently waited to see what would happen.
___The trailer was in the process of repositioning, backing up to the gates of a large paddock adjacent to the one presently housing the cattle and lone sheep. It had a second small gate leading into the other area, such that new animals could get to know the established "herd" for a few days before the gate was opened and they were permitted to mingle. The only animal currently housed in that paddock was Laramie, who with any luck would not attract any negative attention from the cattle. Indeed, as if anticipating the stampede that would doubtlessly occur once the heavy metal doors fell open, the mare had made it a point to move to the furthest end of the large, grassy enclosure. Though she appeared to be grazing idly, her ears were perked, nostrils flared, and eyes alertly fixed in the direction of the trailer; if the cattle became spooked or violent upon being released, the last thing she wanted was to catch a horn to the gut.
___One of the only animals who didn't seem to care much about what was going on was Kahn. A semi-feral barn cat employed hunting mice in the feed storage shed, he was sprawled on a hay stack, half asleep. His eyes opened only in small golden slits, the thin tabby's gaze rolled towards the trailer for a moment, but nothing about cattle being unloaded was of interest to him. He might have dozed off fully at that point had a peck not awoken him very suddenly in a hissing, irritated fit. Wheeling around with his hair on end, the tom cat found himself staring into the black, beaked face of an all too familiar hen. Heaving a sigh, he sat down and took to vigorously grooming the white patch of fur on his chest.
___"You know, if it wouldn't get me kicked out of this place, I would have eaten you like a barn swallow long ago." The cat addressed the chicken moodily, ears flicked back as he worried the fur of his chest. The hen, currently watching the circling pattern of a fattened fly, didn't respond for a long moment, her head jerking and bobbing with the pattern of its flight. Finally, he sharp beak shot forward, this time not to pester a cat but rather to snatch a meal mid-flight. Glomming down the fly, she finally gave the cat her attention.
___"Why do you think he's putting the cattle in with the horse? Shouldn't they be in with the other cattle?" Kahn only looked at the bird crossly.
___"Shouldn't you be with the other chickens?"

___Canisp was about to reply rudely to Nazir's order when the trailer lurched to a stop, sending the bull into an equally irrational bout of bellowing, stampeding terror. Normally, she might have smirked or commented on the hypocrisy, but in the present situation the cow was too frightened for a pissing contest. She did, however, stop smacking her head against the trailer, standing stark still with her head lowered to charge and legs stiff. For several agonizing moments, nothing happened - then, the vehicle rumbled back to life, switching direction and slowly backing up. The action was accompanied by a loud beeping that startled the cow, who kicked hard to the side, hoof connecting loudly with the metal.
___Madisa, meanwhile, had sunken down to her knees, head resting heavily against the cold steel. Her eye was about level with one of the ventilation slats, and through it she caught a glimpse of several chickens, a fence, soft green grass... surely she was hallucinating from the blood loss. Saliva dribbling down onto her arthritic knees, she inhaled deeply a few times, trying to make sense of the scene - she could smell cattle, horses, chickens... perhaps a few others. A farm? Were they really on... a farm? Despite herself, the cow was listing to one side. When the trailer stopped moving, she slid down against its walls, eyelids drooping. As she began to lose consciousness, she saw the trailer doors swing open, caught a hazy verdant glimpse of a field...

((No, she's not dead. She's just dehydrated, injured, and old, and will be separated from the group for a day or two for treatment))

[Brahmans and Chickens]

Nop would have been lost to panic if she hadn’t been so anxious for the old heifer. Although drool dribbled from the Brahman’s gaping muzzle and her eyes rolled with every jostle from the other cattle or the movement of the trailer, she kept her wits about her, lowered her nose to Madisa’s side and nudged at her. Nop lowed mournfully as Madisa slumped further still, convinced, now, that she would witness the old cow’s death. For all her innocent behavior, Nop was not a complete stranger to the harsh truths of nature – how could she be? The air smelled of the road and the trailer’s engine and Madisa’s blood, and the white Brahman could not think of a place more likely for last breaths to be exhaled.

Gillipolas snorted and crowded close to her sister, bumped her broad nose into the other cow’s rump. “Leave her,” she demanded, voice slurred with fear and saliva. “If we rush out together, we’ll be able to overwhelm them.”

Nop gave Gillipolas a slack-jawed look over her shoulder, then shook her head as if to rid herself of flies. Then she turned back to the cow, worry creasing her brow and her sides heaving heavily. Gillipolas huffed, furious, but found herself nudged in turn. The iron-grey bull met her eyes and nodded his head, solemn and narrow-eyed. The truck reversed, stopped once more: the door swung open. With a bellow for bravery and a deep breath for endurance, Nazir charged his way into the sunlight, Gillipolas at his heels. The bull slowed quickly, squinted against the sunlight and tossing his head with displeasure: there were no humans to gore, and it… didn’t seem to be a slaughterhouse. In fact, it looked rather like a farm, a perfectly pleasant place.

He stood, legs quivering, ears drooping, and thought, Well then. He knew, then, that he’d made a right fool of himself. He cast a glare at Gillipolas, who stood nearby and scanned the surrounds with the same taken-aback expression he himself wore. “We’ll overwhelm them,” he grumbled at her, his a voice a caricature of the terrified tones she’d originally spoken with.

She wheeled on him and tossed her head. “How was I supposed to know?”

Any joy they might have felt over their salvation was ruined by their embarrassment and anger at each other.

Nop, meanwhile, hesitated at the door of the trailer, and then dipped her head to Madisa’s. “You were wrong, it’s alright, we’re at a farm – wake up, please?”

When the cow did not stir ((er, I assume)), Nop abandoned altruism and followed her sister into the thick green grass and sunlight, took a deep breath of clean air scented with a million pleasant things. She felt guilty for abandoning the heifer, but was unwilling to risk being carted away if she did not leave the trailer quickly enough. Since her sister seemed occupied in a squabble with the grey bull, she turned to away to look for comfort from the other cattle. A farm was better than the slaughterhouse, but it was still unknown and thus frightening.


Litost disappeared into the dark comfort of the henhouse as the cattle situation turned even louder and more chaotic, having had quite enough of drama for one day; the hen did not even approve of the exuberant antics of Ranford, and these new cattle seemed positively barbarous. Devi and Realia still watched closely, the former delighted by the excitement, the latter on the lookout for any unexpected threats. Kshatriya knew that cattle were not dangerous; nonetheless, she found she could not keep her eyes off the trailer for any length of time. She resigned herself to the command of her anxiety and, feathers poofed grumpily, settled back to watch. Yolki-Palki, Ren’ai, and Jingjie wandered off to forage, the hens murmuring together while the tawny bird kept an eye on the addled rooster.

Sian, of a more social temper towards the non-Polish birds, looked up to Blyn and called, “Do you think this means the owner will finally get us a proper rooster? Since he’s bringing in new animals…” she trailed off, more interested in conversation than the topic matter.

[Farm Animals]

Ranford was almost exploding with excitement. Perhaps most animals would have been frightened by the trailer, particularly if they were of such a young age. Ranford, however, was quite used to trailers and their kin. He had been tossed around from farm to farm, and generally the only bad experience he remembered was being castrated. The last time he had been on a trailer, in fact, had been to come here with Tate, a stop before heading off to other farms. Thus, trailers did not mean damnation; they meant more company.

However, the trailer did not in fact back up to where Ranford anxiously waited. Instead, it went past his pen and backed up in front of the other one, where only a lone horse grazed. Ranford drooped at the sight, his pacing coming to a halt as close to the other pen as he could manage. The trailer's final destination distressed him more than the cattle's fearful bellows had; after all, he knew in his pure heart that they had nothing to fear, and would soon understand that.

He bunched up as the trailer opened... And then let out a cry of delight when two cattle came barreling out. Tate, watching him and the new cattle in turns, shook her head in disbelief. The two cattle looked quite ashamed of themselves for running out like lunatics, while Ranford was too busy being exuberant to really notice. She would not mingle with them until things died down, and quietly moved away from the trailer to graze.

Ranford pressed his nose against the fence.

"Hi! Hi! Who are you! I'm Ranford! Hi!"

Tate groaned at the high-pitched cries. Algon, meanwhile, laughed and walked up beside Ranford, giving the young bull a gentle nudge.

"Don't scare them off, Ranford."

Ranford looked up at the sheep with bright eyes.

"Daddy, I'm just saying hello!"

Algon shook his head, smiling.

"But they just had a hard journey. You should give them a few minutes to relax. Then they will talk with you."

Ranford, eyes wide, nodded obediently and resumed watching the newcomers with much subdued excitement. Algon nudged the calf again and looked up to watch the newcomers as well. He did not seem bothered or even surprised that Ranford had called him "Daddy"; it was something he had quickly gotten used to when he started acting as an authority figure to the young steer. No matter how little he actually did such, the steer had still "adopted" him. It was too amusing for him to get annoyed.

~~~

Blyn decided that the trailer was only so interesting before it turned into the same old situation. However, she would get no chance to have some peace and quiet away from the others; a chatterbox picked out her as her latest victim and began chatting away about... Roosters. Blyn looked at the female sharply, confused and irritated. She wasn't aware they especially cared about roosters.

"I doubt it. He doesn't seem like the type to do something normal or natural."

Despite her look, the hen's words and manner were rather polite, almost friendly. The curses of being a social species; even if she was neurotic, she still knew how to act normal, and acted the part. However, despite her pseudo-cheerful manner, all she wanted to do was go off by herself and maybe peck at the ground to look for something interesting, and so leapt off the crate, flapping her wings to keep her balance. She walked a few steps away, looking around, with the hopes that the other hen would get the hint...

~~~

Thunderclap was amused.

He had always had some suspicions about the other farm cat in the area. The fellow feline on occasion smelled of chickens, which was simply an awkward smell to have on the farm. It then meant that the other feline was swiping chickens under the farmer's nose, or something more bizarre. The lean farm cat then kept a careful watch on the other up on the rafters, much to the aggravation of a small, sleepy barn owl.

At that moment, however, both were awake and reveling in the scene. The trailer and commotion had woken Indrium up, and upon noticing Thunderclap nearby watching something with great amusement, she had approached. She knew the cat was regularly fed and would not bother her, and so the two stared down, watching as Kahn talked with... A chicken. It was all Thunderclap could keep to do from snickering. This was priceless!

Indrium had to agree. Why in the world was the chicken talking with a natural predator? At least she and Thunderclap ate the same things.

"Is that hen suicidal?"

She whispered it softly to the cat, whose ears flickered toward her. He shrugged lightly, not turning away from the scene but clearly paying attention.

"I'm guessin' crazy. No 'ffense, but you bird often are. All that flyin'."

Indrium was not at all offended; instead, eyes sparkling, she pecked at the cat's ear.

"And the heights don't make you cats a bit loony?"

Thunderclap grinned at the comment. The two, he knew, were probably as weird of a friendship as the chicken and the cat. However, he shared the same thoughts as Indrium: at least they ate the same things. Kahn, if particularly hungry, may someday eat that foolish chicken for lunch.

Thunderclap hoped he was there to see it.

((Cat/bird friendships for the win? I just really wanted to get my barn owl into the scene...))