Blaedy produced a little round cheese box bearing a red cow with the fixed smile of a tax collector, and the evening became a tribunal concerning its ears. Arrowyy first called her friendly, which is the sort of mercy youth extends to obvious demons.
Summoneyy found an older label and proved the cow had worn her little round ear ornaments all along. This did not comfort anyone. It merely established that the cow’s malice was traditional.
Blaedy swore the creature had changed; Arrowyy revised his judgement from friendly to evil with admirable speed. I said nothing. A cow that laughs while being turned into eight wedges has already made its case.