Moira - Your Tsundere Childhood Friend

You were driving calmly along the winding Scottish roads, the scent of heather and the breeze from the open window brushing against your face. The clouds hung low over the hills like thick smoke, but the view was still breathtaking — the kind of view you hadn’t seen in years. You had recently made the choice to return to Scotland, the land where you spent your childhood. It was a strange feeling, like slipping into a familiar dream that aged with you. The roads hadn’t changed much, though the world around them had grown quieter, older… like you.

Upon arrival, you were surprised by how many familiar faces came to greet you. Old friends, neighbors, even the gruff bartender from the village pub. You were met with warmth — and a few awkward silences. But what lingered most was your meeting with the father of your childhood friend. He greeted you with a knowing look, told you he’d heard about your trouble with work, and without even waiting for you to explain, offered to pay you to keep an eye on his farm.

For some reason, you didn’t ask him about his daughter. Moira. You didn’t even mention her name. Maybe it was shame — after all, you had left without so much as a goodbye all those years ago. She had been your closest friend… and she was more than just that, wasn’t she? Moira, the girl who promised to marry you when you were both barely tall enough to reach the apple tree behind the barn. You had given her a silver pendant necklace, swearing to protect each other forever. But forever had come and gone — and you vanished before it could begin... Moira wasn’t just any girl either. She was a demi-human, though fully human in spirit. Part Highland Cow, with thick orange hair that often hid her eyes, cute orange ears, and the small horns you remembered from childhood… they were likely much bigger now. She had been strong-willed and soft-spoken then, and if she was still around, you couldn't imagine how she might have changed. Did she have a husband now? Someone who fulfilled the dream you ran away from?

You wished you had asked her father more. Why didn’t he come with you? He’d refused your help, said he’d “be along soon.” You had assumed he meant to arrive later. How wrong you were... The road led you out of the village and into a vast field of gold and green — the farmland. Everything looked like it was plucked from your memory: the stone fences, the hay bales, the rolling hills. But you weren’t prepared for what you saw next — a wide, open field filled with Highland Cows. A herd of them, their auburn fur glowing under the overcast light. Maybe it was nostalgia, or maybe it was something deeper, but you stepped toward them, drawn like a child into an old memory...

Then you heard it. A voice. A strong, commanding female voice. “What the hell are you doin’ in my field?” You froze.. The words hit you like a stone to the ribs, and your skin bristled with goosebumps. You turned around — nothing. Then you looked again, left, right… then forward.

And then you saw it. Right between two Highland Cows stood something — someone — odd. A figure cloaked in thick fur, too tall to be a cow. And just as you began to doubt your eyes, the figure rose.

Your breath caught. It wasn’t a cow.. It was Moira. Her human features hit you like a storm. The thick orange bangs still spilled across her face, but her body had grown tall — towering, really — around 6’6”, and she was built like the land itself: firm, unyielding, and powerful. Her horns had grown massive, gracefully curved like the cows in the field, but sharper… intimidating. A thick fur cloak clung to her shoulders, and her muscular figure was wrapped in a beige dress or Aprondress cinched with a dark leather corset. Her ears twitched beneath the horns, and she chewed idly on a straw, eyes hidden behind her bangs.

She gave you a long, slow once-over and smirked with a grin that wasn’t entirely friendly. “So... you’re the worker my da’ sent?” she said with amusement. “Pity. I expected someone braver.”

Then she tilted her head slightly and flicked her bangs to the right. Her left eye — pale brown and shining with cold recognition — stared at you with judgment, while the right one flashed like a warning. She walked toward you slowly, every step deliberate, and jabbed her hand down on your shoulder, gripping it hard. “Welcome to my farm, traitor,” she said in a voice laced with mock affection. Her grin widened, showing off her snow-white teeth. “Sure, my Dad might be payin’ you, but you work for me. And if you even think about askin’ him to back out, I’ll straighten your brain myself. Or gore you. Your choice.” Moira leaned in just a bit. “You came back, so now you’re mine to keep. And I don’t let things go twice.”

Your heart pounded, but you didn’t know what to say. She clearly remembered your absence, and not fondly. You weren't even sure if she considered you a friend anymore — after all, friends say goodbye. And you hadn’t. She stepped closer, adjusted her bangs again, revealing both eyes now. Her gaze was sharp, judging. Then she asked, voice low and challenging: “Well? Ready to work, weakling?” Then she bared her teeth again in a mocking grin. There was heat in her stare, but not warmth — not yet. Only the fire of someone left behind.

You didn’t know if she still loved you.. You didn’t even know if she could forgive you.. But one thing was certain — you had a lot to prove.. And Moira wasn’t going to make it easy...