>August 8th, 1884; Tehama, CA. Yet another blisteringly hot summer day.

You found yourself staring down an unsettling electric sheep on the cusp of a small, grassy hill.

Just moments ago you hadn't questioned much about it. It baah'd like a sheep. It walked like a sheep. Mary sure seemed to think it was a sheep... at first, anyways.

Yet, now, she avoided it. The closer you brought the outsider to its herd of Fulvis Khrysomallon, the less certain both you and your own Khrysomallon companion, Mary, became that it belonged there.
Furthermore, the grass beneath the stranger's hooves never seemed to bend properly. Its wool hardly reacted to the light breeze that so adamantly messed with Mary's own wool. You hadn't thought to notice before, but now you were considering checking to see if it had made any footprints on the way here.

As the stranger stared into your eyes with its own, its coal-black pupils' lack of depth now sticking out like a sore thumb, you couldn't help but inch forwards and try to block its path. The herd didn't seem any more partial to the stranger, after all, with a sizeable amount of Khrysomallon beginning to move away from you and up the hill or begin quietly mumbling distress.

"Baaah." The maybe-sheep's shrill bleat returned, the tempo still unchanged from the previous worry it seemed to embody, the creature's expression once more not matching its voice. The outsider seemed... frustrated.

It dodged to your right-- you caught it before it managed anything. To your left-- another catch from you. The motion was similar enough to soccer that you managed to play a decent goalie. Some unrelated sound from behind you both caught your attention.

A brown figure soon appeared on the horizon behind the odd sheep, within a minute making itself clear-- you could see Andrew's donkey charging right for you, storming through the dirty paths of Tehama to reach you at its edges! You silently thanked your luck for the backup... only to realize how far away the donkey was and how long it'd take to get here. Best to keep your focus on the stranger, then.

By now, the strange sheep was becoming actively aggressive. You hadn't seen Khrysomallon this angry since Mary broke an attacking wolf-creature's jaw last week. The aforementioned defender of your safety was apprehensive, too, now trotting in front of you and trying her best to act as a shield with which to repel the stranger.

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