“What do you call a sheep with no legs?” Although it was dark out, the light of the moon lit the pale white hair of the sheep and dogs who sat tranquilly in the field. Leaned against an elderly tree, she ran her hands down the spine of the thick matted fur, a heavy head rested in her lap and a soft snore echoing the gentle chirps of crickets.
“A cloud!” She chirped out with a grin. The sound of a sheep calling out was her only response, but she laughed enough to fill the air. Then she shifted, sitting up causing the head to lift from her lap a little. “Alright, how about this one? Why couldn't the little lamb play outside?”
No response followed, so she answered her own question, “It was being baaaaaaaad!” Looking downward, the weary sheep stared at her blankly.
“How many sheep does it take to knit a sweater?” She continued, “Oh, don’t be silly, sheep can’t knit.”
Simply, the sheep rose to its feet and wandered off towards the rest of the flock, ducking its head down to chew on the slightly browned blades of grass. A soft grunt escaped her as she leaned her head back against the tree, “I know. That last one was baaaaaaaad.” She murmured out, the humour slipping from her tone. Gently she ran her fingers over the muscles of her shoulder with a subtle wince touching the features of her face. “They’re always baaaaaaaad,” her voice now morphing into a mutter.
Silence washed over the field as she sat with her head leaned against the tree. The breeze brushed past her ruffling her hair and filling the silent void with breaths of faint life, carrying noises with its motion. Everything seemed to slow down into minutes that tick by like hours as she let out a faint huff. “It feels like nights just grow longer and longer, don’t they?” She asked as she shifted her head to the side, looking down towards a fluffy dog sitting just a few steps away. The dog simply snored in response.
Standing to her feet, she began to pace a bit, “You know what I’m sick of?" She asked the dog, turning her head a little bit. “I am sick of… of sitting around every night and taking care of these sheep. I am sick of my back hurting from being out in fields allt he time. I am sick of being demeaned by strangers coming to the town and treating me as if I don’t know anything. I am sick of not knowing like… anything. I am sick of being alone with no one to fully trust or talk to. I am sick of working my ass off and it going nowhere. I’m sick of…” She stopped before turning and sinking to her knees in front of the dog. Reaching out, her hand rested in the smooth fur and the soft fluff of a tail began to sway. “I'm sick of a lot of shit, you know? Do you think it would be a good idea to run away?”
The dog lifted his head, leaning forward to nuzzle against her. “Do you think we could lead the flock away from here? Fully away?” The dog lifted his head up and licked her. She rolled her eyes, “No, no. No kisses, away. Like away from Trestlebridge and stuff. Do you think we could do it?”
The dog leaned back, his head cocking to the side. One ear stood up with a slight curl to its tip while the other flopped downward like his littermates. Of all the dogs, she must say this was her favourite. His ears flopped oddly, his fur curled on the end like the sheep, and his stature was shorter than the other dogs. His nose dappled pink and black, wiggling from side to side in attempts to seek out whatever smells seemed to draft around. Never did his nose point forward towards his target nor did his ears as they pivoted from side to side. Finally, she let out a breathy laugh and nodded, “I don’t know why we stay for them. They’re not nice.”
The dog let out a yawn and she nodded as if in agreement, “I know, I know. Family. At least I have some friends, you know.”
Lowering his head down, the dog rested his chin onto his legs and Nettie perked up a little, “Did I not tell you? Well, I made a few. Like one who let me into the guard and helped train me. I beat his friend in a sparring match. It was fun. You should have seen it.” She says, scratching the dog’s head. “There is also the pretty one too. He has,” she moves her hands to poke her cheeks inward as she says, “dimples when he smiles. Although,” she hesitated and leaned forward to whisper into the dog’s ear as if she had a secret no one else, not that there were anyone else, could hear, “I need help sometime. I might need you in the near future, if you do not mind. I need revenge for him throwing me into the fountain. You any good at revenge?”
The dog did not respond.
“Oh, I knew you were.” She sat back up, “And there’s a Breeish girl. I… am not sure about her yet. I think she should go back to Bree. It is safer in Bree. But,” she shrugs, “I guess she’s alright. Not like some of those bloody idiots running amuck. You know about Mellow getting stabbed.”
The dog’s head perked up, recognising the name of the sheep who had disappeared from the flock not too long ago. “I’m still trying to get pay back from her. I promise I will.”
Staring up at her, the dog let out another yawn before turning his gaze to the sheep nearby. His mouth opens a little and his pink tongue falls out of its side in a soft pant. Little beads of drool glistened on the tip of his tongue in the pale lighting of the night as his eyes followed the flock of sheep. She shifted to her knees and continued speaking, “If I make enough money, I will buy you a house in Bree, Clover. Alright? He made that promise to me.” She then glanced down to her hands. Her fingers trace along the wrinkles of her palm before she says, “I will keep that promise to you, alright?”
In response, Clover rolled onto his back and put his head onto her knees, looking up to her. Reaching her hand out, she dug her fingers into the fur of his belly. A laugh escaped her throat, “I don’t know what I’ll do with all the flock or… how I’ll do any of it. But I’ll figure it out. I promise.” She then leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the dog, nuzzling his fur softly and wrapping her arms around him into a tight hug. She fell silent save for the soft whisper saying, “Why do dogs wag their tails?” The dog’s tail began to wag at the sound of her voice, "Because no one else will do it for them."
