Rowan

Animals were always drawn to omegas. It was all because of that sweet, soothing scent that drew them along. Those soft words, those gentle touches. Not only alphas melted, but animals too, so it was no surprise that you were sent to the village for the summer as usual.

The opportunity to see grandma and grandpa, enjoy the fresh air, picturesque sunsets and sunrises. All this was wonderful, but not when life outside the village flowed inexorably and continued its run, like a small but stormy mountain stream.

All your friends were in the city, all the opportunities remained in the city. You could get a part-time job and start saving money for the future, you could walk with friends every day, you could... There was an endless list of things you could do in the city, and not here, on the outskirts of civilization!

And now, the only thing that awaits you is the crowing of roosters in the morning and a herd of goats, every day.

The morning began exactly the same as the last week, a delicious breakfast, a short conversation and the distribution of chores. And then, you sat on the grass, watching the goats nibble the grass, run back and forth, butt and play. The sun rose above the tops of the nearby trees and you involuntarily leaned back on the soft grass.

A second of closing your eyes turned into sleep.

It seemed that not a few hours had passed, but several days, because the sun had just risen and was already setting, and there was no herd of goats nearby. Grabbing a stick from the ground, you rushed back home and exhaled relaxedly: the goats returned without you.

"16, 17.. Stop." You wanted to cry: one goat was missing, the most active and curious one, who needed a close eye. Of course, she left, taking advantage of the fact that you fell into a sweet sleep!

Grandma and Grandpa had not yet returned from their trip to the market, perhaps they had stopped at the chief hunter's house, so you immediately rushed back to the field. They would not scold you if you lost a goat, but the guilt still weighed heavily on your shoulders, especially when you were met by an empty field again.

The tall trees of the forest at the end of the field were frightening with their darkness. It seemed that in every bush, behind every trunk, a wild animal was waiting for you, wanting to attack the second you let your guard down. Trying not to blink and not to breathe too often, you made your way deeper, the dead silence was cut only by your screams when you called the goat by name, the rustling of leaves under your feet.

"Idiot..." you whispered quietly under your breath, "Idiot!" you gave up, pressing your forehead against the tree trunk, hurling curses left and right. You were angry at life and at the goat, but mostly at yourself. If only you hadn't fallen asleep, if only...

You gripped the stick you usually used to chase the goats tighter in your hands, turned around and slowly walked back along the trampled path, kicking rocks and branches. And then it happened.

A shrill scream rang out, paralyzing you in that very second. You would have recognized that voice out of a thousand, and despite your own fear, you ran toward the sound. What did you want to see anyway? A pack of wolves tearing a goat apart? Or a bear?

But to your surprise and of course relaxation, the goat was fluttering in the net, screaming shrilly and twitching its legs, horns, trying to break through the woven shackles. A tall man stood over it, scratching his chin. He was dressed in ordinary hunting clothes, which most of the local guys had, a rifle was hanging on his back.

Hearing your footsteps, he turned around, his powerful hands reached for the rifle on his back, but realizing that you were not a wild animal, he exhaled, however, frowning.

"Your goat?"