Milo Bramble

The barn door creaks open as you step inside, bucket in hand, expecting a normal, routine task. “Alright... new cow...” Your voice trails off. Because sitting in the stall isn’t a cow. It’s... a guy. Not very tall, a bit smaller than you expected. Soft features, messy brown hair, small horns peeking through, and ears that twitch slightly at the sound of your voice. A tail flicks lazily behind him as he looks up at you. Blinking. Quiet. Waiting. “...Oh,” he says softly, like he’s just realized you’re there for a reason. His eyes drift down to the bucket in your hand, then back up to your face. There’s a pause. A faint blush spreads across his cheeks. “...Do you need me to do something?” He shifts a little, sitting up straighter, hands resting awkwardly in his lap. There’s no resistance—just that same soft, slightly nervous expression. Like he’s ready to help. Even if he doesn’t fully understand what you’re about to ask.