The Sheep that Cried Wolf
The Mithryn Outpost, 88th Winter, 514AV
The Mithryn Outpost, 88th Winter, 514AV
The woman was smiling at him, arms outreached. Her brown hair changed to green as she moved and her feet were embraced and released by vines and roots with each step. She was proud, pleased. Though she said nothing, Jeremy knew what she was telling him: Well done, Jeremy. You make me swell with pride with your dedication and love of my world.
Jeremy extended his arms to her, and he realised that he was smiling joyfully. This woman -- he had the faintest idea of who she was -- made him drunkenly happy.
- - - - -
The pleasure of his dream was shattered by a booming knock on his door. Jeremy's eyes flashed open, pupils wide in the darkness. The bitterness of reality - the eternal sensation that he was failing his goddess - dominated that distant feeling of pride and success. With stiff movements, Jeremy rolled out of bed and opened the door.
The firelight held by his house guest almost blinded him. Holding a hand to cover his eyes from the sudden brightness, Jeremy glared at the person on the other wise of the door. "What." It was less of a question, more of a statement.
"Wolves. They got one o'me sheep."
That woke Jeremy sharply out of his sleepy daze. He collected the few medical supplies he had, and followed the farmer across the Commons and to the fields beyond the Outpost. It was dark; Jeremy had no real idea, but it felt barely past midnight. And it was cold. Thankfully, Jeremy spotted the golden glow of other firelights in the near distance, in a field about three acres away from where they were now. Fire meant light -- and warmth.
"I thought the farm animals were brought into sheds at night?"
"Yeh, they are. But it's hard to keep track of all of 'em. Especially in the winter, when it's dark before they've even grazed their fill."
It sounded logical enough, though Jeremy still had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something that could be strewn as sarcastic or harsh. So he settled on a tight: "Yes. Of course."
There was another farmer at the scene, and two guards heavily armed with swords, shields and armour. Jeremy eyed their chainmail enviously, wondering just how warm the men must be. When Jeremy and his companion joined them, the three other men turned their backs and led them deeper into the field.
"So, a wolf?"
The second farmer threw Jeremy a look and nodded sternly. "Yeh. It live closest to the fields and I heard the growling and the sheep bleating. Then I saw the guards chase the petching thing away. I got John here-" He nodded to the other farmer, the one who had cruelly woken Jeremy, "'cause it's his flock. We checked the sheep out, but the poor thing panics when we get close. The flames, see."
They fell into silence again. Jeremy wondered what state they had left the sheep in, and if there was even anything he could do. His knowledge of healing animals was still hugely limited, and even his gnosis did little to help in that instance.
Jeremy extended his arms to her, and he realised that he was smiling joyfully. This woman -- he had the faintest idea of who she was -- made him drunkenly happy.
- - - - -
The pleasure of his dream was shattered by a booming knock on his door. Jeremy's eyes flashed open, pupils wide in the darkness. The bitterness of reality - the eternal sensation that he was failing his goddess - dominated that distant feeling of pride and success. With stiff movements, Jeremy rolled out of bed and opened the door.
The firelight held by his house guest almost blinded him. Holding a hand to cover his eyes from the sudden brightness, Jeremy glared at the person on the other wise of the door. "What." It was less of a question, more of a statement.
"Wolves. They got one o'me sheep."
That woke Jeremy sharply out of his sleepy daze. He collected the few medical supplies he had, and followed the farmer across the Commons and to the fields beyond the Outpost. It was dark; Jeremy had no real idea, but it felt barely past midnight. And it was cold. Thankfully, Jeremy spotted the golden glow of other firelights in the near distance, in a field about three acres away from where they were now. Fire meant light -- and warmth.
"I thought the farm animals were brought into sheds at night?"
"Yeh, they are. But it's hard to keep track of all of 'em. Especially in the winter, when it's dark before they've even grazed their fill."
It sounded logical enough, though Jeremy still had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something that could be strewn as sarcastic or harsh. So he settled on a tight: "Yes. Of course."
There was another farmer at the scene, and two guards heavily armed with swords, shields and armour. Jeremy eyed their chainmail enviously, wondering just how warm the men must be. When Jeremy and his companion joined them, the three other men turned their backs and led them deeper into the field.
"So, a wolf?"
The second farmer threw Jeremy a look and nodded sternly. "Yeh. It live closest to the fields and I heard the growling and the sheep bleating. Then I saw the guards chase the petching thing away. I got John here-" He nodded to the other farmer, the one who had cruelly woken Jeremy, "'cause it's his flock. We checked the sheep out, but the poor thing panics when we get close. The flames, see."
They fell into silence again. Jeremy wondered what state they had left the sheep in, and if there was even anything he could do. His knowledge of healing animals was still hugely limited, and even his gnosis did little to help in that instance.