Don't pamper them, they'll only give you spoiled milk

All it had taken was a shake of Sakana's head to send the leader to round up Jael and motion with her head towards the mainland. “I need your help with something.” Jael would know why Modesty wanted to get her off the island. It had had the girl anxious and moping for more than a week now. They had hit the limit of their supplies and there had been no improvement in the birds they had gathered under the light of the moon. Perhaps if they had gone in the day light, they would have seen the signs before bringing them all the way back here.

They kept a ground eating but steady pace as they made their way to the lands where Valhalla once stood, the wall in disrepair as they made their way to the moor. There, as expected, a herd of goats grazed peacefully. Modesty stopped and took a seat, watching the goats for any sign of illness. Some had long, long necks, some had shaggy curly coats all tangled with burrs and debris that if maintained, would probably be useful for fiber arts, something Jael and Kenway could make use of. Some had horns, some had none, some had full udders and fuller sides. “How do they look to you?” She didn't want to go dragging sick livestock back to the islands again. Clearly Jael was the sort to get attached.

“Speech.”