Ninety Nine Left Behind

The minute Aaron went to find Zelazna, the eyes appeared, staring in at us between tangled branches of the surrounding hedgerow. I could see them, and Assaf and Bünder could sense their presence as well. Being the eldest, we eyed each other over the heads of the young ones. We knew what the starving eyes outside staring in meant. Someone would probably disappear before long.

“Hey, Ewe. What do you think happened to Zelazna?”

“I don’t know, Merino Longwool. She’s one of the youngest. Maybe she got lost, or found some good grass, I don’t know. I hurried in with the middle of the flock.”

“Why Aaron went to find one and leave all the rest of us, I just don’t understand.” Hampshire retorted.

“Romanov. Leave Quadrella alone, for goodness sake.” I shook my head. Some were just real animals.

“Do you think we’ll have frost tonight, Ewe?”

“Maybe. Clear sky, and there’s a sliver of moon. Should we stand shoulder to shoulder around Najdi? I can see she’s getting ready to drop one.”
“Good idea, Ewe. Gotland, Gaddi, Jacob, Churra. Waddle on over here and help us protect Najdi. She’s going to deliver,” Merino Longwool said.
Assaf and Bünder still eyed the thin spot in the hedge, knowing there were more eyes ready to join the pack outside. Wolves gave off a particular scent, but unfortunately the breeze was headed their way, and I watched as the naive young ones carelessly meandered by the danger zone.

“Xalda, Yoroo, Uda. Get away from that thin area in the fence. There’s a menacing threat out there,” I said, trying my best to warn them.
“Oh Ewe. You’re just an old dried up critter. Nothing’s going to happen. Go back to sleep.” After rudely dismissing me, Xalda crept closer. The other young males followed.

“You don’t know what happens when you get too close to those eyes, do you?” I asked.

“Nothing. Leave us alone. We can go where we want,” Uda piped up.

“Don’t you remember Wiltshire Horn? Don’t you remember the screeching, the snapping and biting?” I asked.

Xalda and Yoroo bumped into the white back end of Uda who had stopped. “Who’s Wiltshire horn?” Uda asked.

Xalda and Yoroo exchanged looks. “Oh, just some mutton head who got too close to the fence. You’re too small to remember,” Yoroo said.

“You’re both younger than I am. How do you know?” Uda insisted. He had turned his brown head to face them.

Xalda looked to the sky. “It’s a lovely night. Maybe we’ll see a comet.”

“Don’t try to distract me. What do you know about Wiltshire Horn?” Uda planted his brown front legs into the ground. His back half gleamed brilliantly white in the moonlight.

Xalda stepped closer to Uda. “Come on you sissy. Move over if you’re not going to lead. I’ll do it.”

Uda moved to the side and looked at me. “Ewe, is it safe or not?”

I smiled. “Not.”

He glanced over to Yoroo and Xalda and back to me. Then he was distracted by Romanov and Quadrella’s activity.

“Never mind that either. You’re too young. Let’s go and see how Najdi is doing. Could be there’s a newborn.” I nudged Uda over to the circle surrounding Najdi, and sure enough, the weak meh, meh, calls of a lamb mingled with bahs of relief.

“Yuck. That’s gross, Ewe. It’s sticky.”

I smiled. “It’s beautiful, really. She’ll look very cute to you one day.” I turned to the thin part of the fence where Yoroo and Xalda walked boldly within breathing distance of the eyes. Snap! Growls and yelping intermingled with loud bahing. Tuffs of white wool flew into the air. The smell of blood permeated the surrounding area and the bulk of two sheep disappeared through the thorny hedge. Only small scraps of bloodied fleece were stuck between spikes of thorny branches.

A body pressed against me. It was Uda. He leaned in further. “Is that where Wiltshire Horn went?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you warn them?” Uda cried.

“I did. You were about to go with them, remember?”

Uda shrank into himself, his hooves clicking together.

Assaf and Bünder caught my eye and shook their heads. Why couldn’t the young listen? “Why must they experience evil themselves? They aren’t prepared to deal with it.”

​“Where’s Aaron when we need him?” Hampshire complained.

“He left the ninety-nine of us in charge of each other, Hamp.” A great sadness pressed against my chest. “We were to do his work while he saved Zelazna,” I said, “and we failed.”