my bleating heart

So she knew nothing about goats and was still somehow its very best friend. Tyrian snorted a begrudging laugh. "Maybe so." Perhaps there was something to be said about the "feminine instinct" as she called it. His frown deepened as he considered the idea. If it meant he had to tote carrots around and ask the goat about its feelings when he was handling it, then he was out as the very act of not eating it left it (in his opinion) forever indebted to him. This was, after all, just a goat. If not for his interest in raising them this critter would have been lunch two days ago. It should just listen to him out of gratefulness for a) not being eaten on the spot and b) being taken to buck paradise as his one and only responsibility was going to be nutting in lady goats. All of that considered, Tyrian didn't think he needed feminine instinct to get his way. The goat, if he were wise, would beat feet for nirvana and drag Tyrian along behind him if he had to.

"Ohh, it will be his fault," he said in a teasing "I know better" tone. "He's just gonna have the one job. If he can't pull it off then I'll replace him with a buck that can. The girls too because that's just business." Tyrian cocked his head and gave the goat a pointed look. "You hear me, you carrot munching hard head? If I have to mount your horns on the gate as a warning to your replacement, I will." He was only mostly teasing for the girl's benefit (or rather, his own, as he was hoping for a reaction) as Tyrian wasn't willing to completely rule out the possibility that the goat could be reasoned with. If the goat had any sense - and that was a big if - he would take warning.