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“Mama?” The door to the young ram’s bedroom creaked open. Large eyes peered into the kitchen, squinting through the morning sun that was filtering through the thin curtains that were long faded of their once vibrant color. The child’s mother stood with her back to him, the sound of running water and the clicking of dirty dishes echoed throughout the small house like gunshots through the silence.
“I’m busy, Lamby.” Her voice broke through the quiet ambiance. Her tired eyes gazed out the window into the morning fog. In her hands she clutched a soapy washcloth and she reached slowly for another dish. “Go get ready for school.”
She was a sheep hybrid like all the residents of the village, including her son. Her dull horns cast long shadows on the floor and her ears twitched at the soft whispers of the old house. The threads of her dress had been worn down, the once red fabric had faded to a soft pink with long faded patterns that were barely visible under the golden rays of the sun. She heard the soft patter of her son's hooves long before he entered the room. The floor creaked as he tentatively reached out to clutch at the hem of her dress.
“Mama, why do I have to go to that new school?” Lambert's tiny hands tugged urgently at his mothers dress, the barely visible pattern distorted as the fabric was bunched under his fingers. Large eyes peeked out from his lashes. “I wanna go to school with everyone else.”
She regarded her son with a critical eye, her rectangular pupils rotated to stay level with the ground as she tilted her head. She slowly set the rag down, the plate clinked softly as it was placed on the drying rack. She let out a barely audible sigh, her ears perked slightly.
“Everyone else would love to get to go to that school. It’s a good place. Do you not find the humans nice?” She ruffled his hair, feeling the tiny bumps of budding horns. “You’re becoming a big ram, this place is good for you.”
At that his eyes began watering, he sniffled loudly and let out a sob.
“No one wants to be friends!” Lambert hiccuped and he buried his face against his mothers legs. “Why don’t they wanna be friends, mama?”
She hesitated, before answering. Her expression tightened and she grimaced. “Better you don’t make friends anyway. Rams like you won’t hold onto them anyway.”
She loved her only son but she knew what their people would grow up to be like. Leadership and dominance would one day be his only focus and it was best not to let him fool himself like she had done so many years ago.
“THAT’S NOT TRUE,” Lambert exclaimed “I’ll make tons of friends and we’ll be together forever!”
She let out a shaky breath and blinked away the beginnings of tears.
“Lamby, you’re gonna have to fight for your place in this world.” She squatted down. “You gotta be strong and you’ll tower over all of them one day.”
Lambert’s face scrunched up in thought, briefly distracted from his distress. He thought of his father, the epitome of strength and power. Surely his father had lots of people wanting to be his friend? Who wouldn’t? His father was so cool.
“I’ll be super strong! And— And I will have so many friends and wives and children!” Lambert babbled angrily, his words blended with soft bleats and hiccups. His mother didn’t refute him this time, only humming quietly as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Many wives and children? How many lambs are you wanting, Lamby?” She placed her chin on her son's head, feeling the jolts as he hiccuped. “How many grandbabies are you planning to give to this old ewe?”
“A million…” His voice was muffled but he answered without hesitation.
“I don’t think you have enough hair on your head for a million braids.” She chuckled softly, referring to the tradition of both parents braiding a strand of each other hairs into their own for good luck. “You wouldn’t want that many brats anyway. How would you ever find the time for them?”
“I’ll have a husband to help me.” Lambert mumbled. He sniffed loudly and looked up at his mother defiantly. She laughed, wiping the drying tears and snot with her own dress and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. His shining eyes burned with a desire she couldn’t muster the courage to smother.
“You’ll be an excellent husband and the best father, Lambert.” With one last squeeze, she stood back to her full height, smoothing down her dress. “Now go get ready for school, mister.”