6. Behdo's Choice

Behdo’s legs shivered with every step through the snow-covered mountains. They were almost done. In the distance, he thought he saw a cottage with a nice fire burning, and a large colorful sign that he couldn’t read.

But no, Himnib paused again. The faster we’re out of dreadful Hima, Behdo thought, the ba-better.

Himnib wasn’t even doing anything. He’d let his herd roam freely on a flat plateau that grew purple and yellow flowers, then … silently stood in the center. For hours. He did that very often and it made Behdo nervous every time.

What was he doing? Finding the strongest and prettiest sheep to allow them to make a child together? Looking for his next victim to be shaved or milked? He only liked you if you gave more milk or wool than the others—so he did not like Behdo.

Usually, Himnib walked away after staring for hours, still having done nothing.

This time he failed to notice a red panda standing behind him and staring at him. You’d meet a red panda every now and then in Kina, but this one felt out of place. They were odd species, they ba-were. Nobody knew where they came from or how they lived, and they neatly stayed out of every single conflict.

The panda coughed. “May I ask what you’re doing?”

Himnib wasn’t startled. He didn’t even look at her. Shepherds must have eyes in their ba-back.

“Looking.”

“Yes, I see that, but why?”

“A shepherd must observe what is normal, to know what is not normal.”

The panda considered this, then snuggled against his bear paws as if they were old friends.

“And? Is everything normal?”

Himnib shook his head. “The sheep don’t grow as large as they used to. They walk more slowly. I think it might be due to lack of food, or maybe a sickness.”

The panda nodded. “Not much edible food ever since the First Conflict destroyed most of it.”

“Not all. I heard there are beautiful areas left, around Compana and Traferia, furthest away from the battle. That where we’ll go, once the Council stops summoning me all the time.” Himnib crouched and inspected the mouth and eyes of a sheep. “After we finally leave the nightmare called the Hima mountains.”

Behdo stood next to the inspected sheep. He was small, yes, smaller than average. He’d lived off of his mother’s milk far longer than average too, which frustrated Himnib, because he’d already wanted to milk Behdo’s mother. As his friends were all matched with a lovely sheep lady, he was never picked for anything.

By now, he was certain something was very wrong with him.

Himnib would ba-kick him out. Maybe even before reaching that cottage, out of which he could already smell the warm vegetable soup. He was useless to the herd. And the favorite saying of his boss was clearly: “make yourself useful, woolly friend, and there is always a place for you in the herd”

And yes, of ba-course. Himnib passed over Behdo and immediately attended a different sheep next to him. Behdiël, always Behdiël.

Or no, not this time. He walked back, ignored Behdo again, then petted a different sheep. A female sheep with fur for two. The famed knife appeared out of his satchel and shaved her fur.

“Your sheep look strong and healthy to me,” the red panda said. “I remember the days when sheep barely had any fur. But yours … is it magic?”

“No, no,” Himnib said smiling. “If only it was. I only allow my best sheep to bear more children. That way, every new generation is even stronger than the previous one, with an even thicker fur.”

A bundle of empty bottles clanged as they left his satchel. He dove under the sheep, searched for her udders, then pinched them to make the milk come out. He continued this process until all bottles had been filled, while the panda silently watched.

“Why don’t you go to the cities? The bears are loved, especially on Origina. You wouldn’t have to work all day, in the snow, on your knees. Not at your age.”

“Working is good. It keeps you fit and healthy. No, being a shepherd is not for everyone. Sometimes you have to walk for days without sleep, carry a sheep as your arms shake from exhaustion, and live with the constant fear that you missed something and your herd dies.”

Himnib closed the lid on the bottles and sent the milked sheep back to the others. “But if you do all that, you can see the world.”

The panda jumped on his walking cane. Behdo started moving again, though he didn’t know why he still traveled with this herd.

Himnib finally continued their ba-journey.

“And you see new life being born. All of this started, once, with only a handful of sheep. They were just with me, I don’t remember why, and obeyed my every command. Bunjo said he’d stolen them during the Conflict, and back then they were just slow creatures with a tiny bit of wool. We helped each other, fled from the Pricecats. Since then I’ve had to bury many sheep … but also seen many new lambs enter this life. The scariest moment in the life of all sheep. So fragile, so vulnerable.”

There it was—Himnib paused again. But this time it was Behdo who grabbed his attention.

He pushed around parts of his fur and felt his jaws, legs, and butt. Hij looked worried—not the expression Behdo wanted to see. He mumbled something about illness and not enough lambs the past year.

That’s that, he thought. I have to prepare to be cast aside.

The panda also started inspecting the sheep’s fur. Her and there she pulled out an insect, only to eat it.

“And all the sheep listen to you? Trust you?”

Himnib smiled. “Sheep only trust those who truly love them back.”

It started to snow. A grey-blue sky: storm was coming. That was enough to finally get Himnib moving again. Still he walked away as if he was sad about saying goodbye to the mountains, unsure if he’d ever return to this specific place. A place from which you could see a large part of the entire world, if you stood at the top.

Behdo might not have enjoyed it as much as he should have. Himnib had, with all his pausing, one time even stopping for five days.

We don’t fit together, Behdo thought with finality. I am not useful to this herd. I go away on my own terms.

Once they reached the cottage, he intentionally positioned himself at the back. As expected, the final ten sheep really didn’t fit inside anymore and had to stay outside, as the storm raged and raged. Behdo had picked a terrible time to walk away. But a decision is a ba-decision, and it was better this way.

The panda stopped him.

“Do you like it here, in his herd?” she asked in a whisper.

“Erm, well, yes, no, ba-don’t know.”

“Hmm. Not very convincing.” She studied the other sheep standing outside. Those were more positive.

“Are you not scared he’ll eat you? He is a large carnivorous bear.”

“He does eat us. Once we’ve died.”

Even then I wouldn’t give enough meat, little Behdo thought with half a horn on his head. And so I go.

“And that he commands you? That you are Himnib’s … possession?”

The other sheep scampered. “He is not the ba-boss. If we don’t want to ba-walk, all hundred of us stop walking. What will he do then? Carry us all? Give a speech?”

“Hmm. He never hurt you? No punishment? Violence? He took good care of you?”

Only now the sheep grew suspicious. Who was this panda? Was she investigating Himnib? Looking for a reason to steal his herd?

The sheep inside the cottage bleated loudly. Behdo heard tables hitting into the wall and splintering. Himnib yelled. Had a fight broken out? The other sheep ran inside to help.

Behdo ran the other way. The panda followed him. Those only ate much smaller animals, right?

The red-white beast unrolled a piece of parchment. Behdo was not good with words—another thing he lacked—and took a while to read it.

One law to punish shepherds for walking anywhere they want and causing chaos.

One law to forbid owning other animals entirely.

“I am not sure if we’re doing the right thing,” the panda said. “Or destroying everything the gods built for us.”

Behdo only heard half of it. When he returned to the cottage, everyone was gone. A Yak cleaned up the mess, growling and cursing. “Think you’re lucky, multiple Companions, honorable guests, yak yak, then they act like this …”

A Companion Necklace lay on the counter. It belonged to a leopard named Lazpard. Behdo snatched it, keeping the cut rope between his teeth, and walked away quickly.

He hoped the friendly panda would stay, but she climbed a tree and jumped between the treetops.

“Sorry, at your pace I’d never reach the vote in time!”

He’d have to brave the snow storm alone. Unsure if he had to find his own path to the Council and warn Himnib … or walk away from this herd where he never belonged.