Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – Failed Escape

With these “upgraded” taste buds so to speak, grass tastes really nice.

As my fellow sheep also rose, we together feast in the endless plain of greens as if we’re razing it. Honestly, this is surprisingly satisfying. The farmer even left a wide wooden crate filled with water so I can also enjoy some “refreshing beverages”. The space is pretty large so you can even do some sort of exercise if you want to run around! I wonder why there are so few sheep though. You’d assume this place to have at least a couple dozen of us but it’s only 5. None of us are rams or lambs either. I’d really want to thank the farmer for this but I’ve yet to even see him so far.

 

I mean I can’t communicate with him but I’m sure sympathetic bleating will be just as effective. Probably not. But if the farmer is sparing this much, there might have been a whole lot of us before or he just wants us to grow “perfectly” before being slaughtered. Shuddering at the thought, I really do need to formulate some escape plan – but how do I get around with such an inflexible body?

Trying to bend my two front knees my face slams directly into the grass. Honestly, it’s going to take a while getting used to this height just as much as the body. Why did I have to be a sheep! I cry out.

 

“Baaaaaaaa”

 

…

Lifting my head from the green nirvana I slowly make my way through to the fence. It’s completely wooden with a minute gap between two planks. Okay, this should be easy enough! I use my front right leg to bend against the fence and slide my head through it. Now, my left side and done!

I try to kick with my bottom legs and –

 

*thump*

 

Huh? Trying again-

 

*thump*

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I really can’t move, am I too fat for this? I guess I’ll try to move back.

 

*thonk*

 

Ow! Without bumping my head this time, I move back to my original position and collapse on the floor in dismay. Maybe if I reincarnated here there’s magic? It was a popular trope or maybe not, I’m in an extremely ordinary farm with nothing peculiar other than the run-down house next door. I guess it’s worth a try since my situation is weird to say the least. Fire!

“Baaaaa”

 

And nothing came out...

Maybe if I imagine it properly? If I think of the ignition of oxygen and then – fire!

 

“Baaa!”

 

Nothing at all. I guess I’m a perfectly normal sheep. As I walk to the crate to drown my sorrows in water, the door of the shack slams open. A weary middle-age man enters, the owner of this place I assume, followed by a well-clothed man. A merchant? 

 

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