Cows that go moo in the night.

So. I've noticed that once again, my posts have gotten all irregular. I think that my inspiration gets worse in the summer.

Here's a little something to tide you over (whoever you may be... I'm not entirely certain the is a definite you, or whether you are just an amorphous blob, made of of a huge amalgamation of the world's population. And wether, which I was going to write earlier is actually a castrated ram. that made me giggle. Sheep using the internet.)

Molly ambled over to the the fence, browsing the grass as she went. She liked it by the fence, the dessert grass tasted more like chocolate and less like sweets over here. Peering over into the next field, where here friend Rachael was having a meal in the main course grass. Lasagna by the looks of it. She took another mouthful of the dark, rich chocolate and stiffened in surprise as her brain processed what she had seen.

'Rachael, but what have you got on your feet?!'

'Hya Molly, do you like em? I got the sheep to order them from e-bay for me. They swear that they'll make my milk better! Mind you, they also said that they would stop stormlight from hurting you. That's silly, stormlight doesn't hit us!'

Molly shook her head slowly, as she thought about it. Rachael always had been an odd one, never quite fitting into the herd, always willing to try new things. It had been Rachael who had made the man-carrier make loud noises and start trundling down the hill, much to the amusement of the herd, because watching the farmer run after it with his arms waving like that... well! Everyone knew that that would spook it more.

'The sheep you say? Hmmm. I wonder if they are trying to pull your udder. You do look silly you know!'

'Naw. Remember when I sat on that fox and stopped Louise's new lamb from being carried off? They said they owed me one.'

'Ah.' Molly chewed the cud, and thought again. 'Well, I guess they aren't to bad, for manhide. I never realised that people butchered farmerkind for their feet. Are they comfy?'

'They're not bad, Moll, Although I don't understand why they have this big hollow bit at the front of their hoof. It is most bizarre. But you're right. It is odd that people butcher farmerkind. I didn't realise they did it. I wonder what happens to the rest of him?'

'Hmm.' Molly thought some more. Confusing things, farmerkind. So confusing that it required fruit flavoured grass. She wondered off deep in thought, flicking her tail at Rachael as she left in absent farewell.

Later that day all thought of Rachael's manhide hoof coverings left Molly's head as their farmer came and herded all the cows into the top field, where, to their surprise, there was a new stormlight attractor. Sniffing the air, Molly noticed that there was rain on the way, and enough to make the chocolate grass field covered when the stream broke it's banks. Hmm.

That night was the heaviest storm that Molly or any of the other herdmembers could remember. the rain came almost horizontal, and the stormlight and the stormnoise came without pause, often hitting the stormlight attractor that stood looming over them.

A particularly bright stormlight filled the air all around them and everything went dark.

When the farmer went to check on his herd the next day after the storm broke, he was shocked to see them all dead under the new electricity pylon he had fought against for so long. All except for one cow who huddled next to the fence closest to him, and for some inexplicable reason, was wearing wellington boots.