ooc: fun time with sheep! July 15th

It was official; X'yrin had no idea what the hell she was doing. She did not even know where to begin when it came to tending to the sheep. But she had them now and that was all that mattered. Little cotton like animals that made wool and little offspring called 'lambs'. But how did the make the lambs? Were either of the sheep male? Perhaps she should have asked before the kindly d'Arte merchant left. Looking at the small grazing creatures she nodded to herself. Oh yes, she definitely should have asked.

The day was quite hot even under the shadow of the mountain, but such was the time of summer. Her golden fur had begun its shed, starting first at the nape of her neck then descending down her back. The majority of the morning spent in thought was also spent pulling away clumps of creme colored fur of her underbelly, giving idle attention to the puffs of fur as they rolled away. Now, that wasn't difficult at all. But getting the fur off these little puff balls... now that was a chore. Perhaps she could 'will' it off with a persistent gaze. Though it was a silly notion in and of itself, she was not above trying it...

After all, what else could she do?

ooc:

The voice of panic was unmistakable coupled with the black ridge of the female as she came through stampeding with fright. The abrupt movement set the little cottony animals into a stampede of their own, attempting to run any way they could to safety. It was unnecessary, but the little beings didn’t know better. They were fleeing for their lives and thusly could not be frowned upon. But it did not help the she-wolf feeling any less annoyed by the small, aimless creatures.

She watched as they went running for a moment, they stopped suddenly to resume grazing not even a yard away. Truly, these were simple animals. If not a little dim. But with the would-be crisis averted, the Issor was able to acknowledge the wee jackal with an endearing smile as always… but with a tired wear on her muzzle.

“Oh… these are not clouds,” she kindly corrected the female. “I assure you the clouds won’t fall this day. But those little creatures-“ she extended a claw toward the black limbed, walking cotton balls –“are called sheep. I traded for them from a pack merchant. They are supposed to birth little sheep called ‘lambs’ and make ‘wool’ from their fur.” And as she went down the list of their supposed uses, she came to the dilemma yet to be resolved. “I’m certain there needs to be a male sheep to make lambs… but it shouldn’t be hard to take off their fur.” Though as she said it she brought a thoughtful hand to her head and swept over it lightly, reverting to the Nomad gesture for ‘lack of understanding’. If only she had asked Vasiliy before he left…

Helplessly she looked behind her to the hiding Sira with desperation wrought across her face. “Perhaps we pull the fur off?” She suggested, having no other solution in mind other than killing the little things and skinning them. But there had to be another way than putting the animals to slaughter so soon. “Or cut it?”