No Longer His Convenient Wife
River shouts from across the field, where one of the sheep has decided that the vegetable patch is its new home.
“I’m coming!” I yell back.
The second sheep makes a sharp turn, nearly colliding with me before darting away again, absolutely determined to make this as difficult as possible.
“Why are they so fast?” Rain groans somewhere behind me, still half-covered in mud.
“Because you’re slow,” Sienna calls back, not even looking up from her recording.
One of the sheep—a particularly aggressive-looking one with horns, I’d name that one Lucifer—decides to test the fence integrity by ramming it repeatedly with its head.