Blackbelly Sheep Novels & Stories

All of them called him Pa now, something that had started as a snide come back from Kadence eventually morphing into so much more. Dyllen had closed his eyes to it, keeping going as he had been and not paying attention to the way his life was changing. “That sheepskin is for your nest,” Linus continued, turning his attention to the bewildered omega. “It’s from a special breed of sheep found in a town called Malphas. They breed them to shear for their wool so they only have a few pelts a year. Cherub has one for his nest and is really attached to it, so I stopped by for more a month or so back when we went to complete a contract close to there. That’s yours to keep, even if you and Dyllen don

“When you put it that way, it makes a lot of sense.” The trio nodded, then Tyr took out a few bills from his pocket and stuffed them into Pop’s hand. He continued, “Where is Sheep Mountain? Please take us there.” “No problem.” Pop agreed with Tyr’s request crisply. “Bale City’s highest mountain range is Sheep Mountain Range. It's not far from my house, but you'll have to ride a horse to get there.” “Do you have any other horses with you?” Tyr asked. “Yes.” Pop squinted his eyes into a line with a smile. “I have more than a hundred horses.”

It was here that she learned something of the dark burden of David’s family: Perhaps the most unique variation on the legend of the Black Dog isn’t actually a dog, but a giant black cat, of strange appearance, more commonly known as the Beast of Dunballan. Dunballan is one of the remotest and least visited towns in the Highlands. It’s also home to some of the strangest folklore of that area.

I’d been on the fence about getting her a pet, but now that I have, I'm glad I did. Thea was right - she's made a lot of progress and deserves a reward every bit as amazing as she is. The two goats are already as different as night and day. One is partially black with some white on its face, belly, legs and a heart shape on its back, has blue eyes and a calm disposition. The other is almost all white with a brown face and scattered brown speckles with golden-brown eyes and is always loud, jumping over things, tumbling around, and tripping over everything.

Is that a good thing? GABRIEL … Why am I not surprised? Somehow the new pet suits her more than any other. I guess it's not too unconventional for these parts, and at least like the sales lady said, the Ouessant is the smallest breed of sheep, though why anyone would want to order one all the way from the UK and then refuse delivery boggles the mind.

“I ain’t had as good a luck hirin’ as I’d like. It appears sheep ain’t so popular in these parts. I took two men from the ranch, but the rest wanted no part of sheep herdin’. There was quite a bit of rumblin’ goin’ on about it, to be sure.” “They’ll get over it once they see it won’t be affecting the cattle operation. I’m sure we’ll attract workers once the word spreads and they get used to the idea. So, how many men do you have?” Mike nodded. “Four, plus me. Good fortune smiled on us, though. It just happened that an old Scottish buzzard, named Malcom McDonald, heard all the bitchin’ amongst the ranchers about our sheep comin’ when he was getting’ supplies for the lumber camp he work

Galahad urged. " Wait! If he's like that then how come Balban Mansion isn't overrun by these fake sheep?" I wondered out loud. " V5 hates them like crazy. He kills hundreds of them in an hour if he spots one, which is why most fake sheep are super good at hiding. " Kaen answered. " Yeah, that prick just hates them! Watch this! ArhhgooAraa!" Galahad chimed. " ArhhgooAraa?!!"

Aviva “I know that feels better,” Freya says, frowning at the frantically bleating sheep, who is now sheared clean and pretty much naked as it gallops off to join its herd. She wipes her brow, squinting into the sunlight as she gathers up an enormous handful of raw wool and carries it over to the creek where I’m crouching in the water, rinsing another batch of wool until it shines a soft white. “Who’s next?” “That one,” I laugh, tilting my head to the giant, gray and black ram with spiraling horns that looks like he wants nothing more than to kill us both. He stamps his hooves and lowers his head in emphasis, snorting and shaking his fuzzy head.