Story no 46. I spent two months (May and June) working on a farm, which included three charming and very goatish goats. They found all the holes in the fences and made some new ones, all in pursuit of snacks.
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(You’ve got them all figured out, then,) Khazar said. (Every woman and child has been tagged to a homestead.)
Kazed considered, and Khazar watched a cascade of thoughts flicker across the top of his mind. Clearly not all the displaced had been assigned to new accommodations.
(There’s a problem,) Kazed finally allowed.
Khazar bared his teeth, and Kazed’s already-thin mind voice faltered.
(What sort of problem would that be?)
(There’s a woman—with—)
By accident or providence, a heart-stuttering scream rent the air at that moment.
Both Khazar and Kazed dropped to all fours and dashed toward the noise.