Sheep

Tiffany Aching was having a great time. Obviously. After all, it was just like it had always been, out on the rolling green fields of the Chalk, surrounded by... sheep, the, er, cool wind in your face. Who wouldn't love that? Obviously. She looked around at the scenes of her childhood. How long had it been since the Lords and Ladies had attacked? It seemed like decades. She looked at the great white horse, and remembered how it had risen from the Chalk itself to save her from the Hiver. She had been so young then.

Tiffany Aching looked out across the plain, and saw two dots, moving quickly towards her. She tensed, ready to fight. Wow, danger, she thought. When was the last time you had danger Tiffany? Now she could see it was two men on horseback, cloaks billowing in the wind. Bandits? No, bandits stick to roads, here is too specific. They dismounted and walked towards her, holding on tight to their hats to stop them blowing away. Her dress fluttered violently as a huge gust of wind burst across the hills again.

They stopped in front of her, and the man in front glanced at the sheep beside Tiffany before saying;

"Mrs Aching?"

"Not Mrs"

"Oh sorry" he held out a hand. "John Strepsil"

Tiffany stared at the hand. John put it away sheepishly.

"Strepsil?" said Tiffany. "Isn't that some kind of-" John sighed.

"No" The man behind him sniggered. "Oh shut up"

As if in response to the remark, another powerful gust of wind flew through the hills and the man behind John fell over. Strepsil groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"If you're quite finished with this clownish display." said Tiffany. "What was it you wanted?"

"Lots, Miss" said the man behind John

"Shut up, Clive" John looked at the sheep beside Tiffany.

"Do you have anything to do with this, Miss Aching?" Tiffany hesitated

"No. What do you know about this?"

"Same as you. Nothing."

Tiffany went deeper into the pit of despair. There was so much she didn't know, it was killing her. She needed answers, and now these men had brought so many more empty spaces to the puzzle.

"How did you find out about this? The Chalk just happens to be in the middle of nowhere." said Tiffany.

"I have my sources" said John, smugly

"Yeah right, it was just a load of pissed blokes in the-" said the man addressed as Clive.

"As I was saying, it appears that things like this are happening all over the place, not just here." interrupted John.

Tiffany looked at the scene around here. It was nice to know that she wasn't alone. It had all started in the middle of the night. There had been a flash of light outside and she'd gone outside to check. She heard terrified bleating from the sheep pens and she'd gone inside. They were gone. There was bleating everywhere, but they were all gone. It chilled her to the bone. She ran back outside and looked across the landscape to find any traces. There were some lights going across in the direction of the white horse and she followed them all the way there. And she'd stopped. And stared. All night.

All around the horse there were... sheep. They weren't exactly sheep, but like the horse, they weren't what a sheep looks like, but what a sheep is.

The white sheep covered the area around the horse. It was almost scary, but Tiffany wouldn't admit it.

And the circles. They were everywhere, all over the Chalk. Circles appearing in the grass, as if someone had dragged a plough through the ground. If it was just one circle she would've assumed it was just some drunk bloke, but they were everywhere, and even an army of drunk blokes wouldn't have been able to do that in one night.

And then the wind had started. Even in the day's clear sky a massive gale-force wind was powering across the Chalk. People were staying indoors in case they blew away, and the Chalk was even more barren than usual.

Tiffany Aching had to do something.

She looked John Strepsil straight in the eye.

"What... what's going on?"