Author's Note: Ficlet for the LJ ff_friday challenge. June 12's subject: POV of a minor/recurring character. Now that I think about it, it's a really weird idea, but it was all I could manage for this difficult challenge. This is set between "Shindig" and "Safe." Length: 991 words; I really need to cut down on these.

Place to Place

By Trisana McGraw

What's happening? Hooves clattering on metal, walls blocking the sky. Where am I?

I start mooing, even as I'm forced to keep moving lest I be trampled, into the large, strange creature's cold belly. There's too much activity to stop and figure out what's going on.

Finally, those in front of me stop, and the rest of us do the same. I turn around, trying to find out where I am. Two-leggers stand above and around us, but they're not the ones who raised me. My eyes dart around, and I see a huge flap covering the belly. It clangs as it hits this beast's skin, and we're locked inside with the foreign two-leggers.

Suddenly, the floor slides out from beneath us, and I nearly hit my herd-mate beside me. We regain our balance but are left with hearts racing in fear formed from the unknown. Looking around again, I recognize more cows from my herd, until I realize that we've all been taken away.

The two-leggers approach; we all shy away. One of the two-leggers comes closest, reaching out one hand. It's wearing the same skin that is on my back; I don't know if that's good or bad. We stay still, and it makes an amused sound and pats some cows on the head. It seems friendly, but I've been kidnapped, and I'm not ready to trust someone who masquerades as one of us.

Another two-legger with longer hair growing out of its head and smelling like machines clambers over and immediately starts touching us. I can tell that its hands have cared for our kind before, and I relax. Metalsmell turns to Skincoat and speaks in their language. Turning back to us, Metalsmell starts pointing out cows and saying words like "Bessie" and "Bonnie." I think it's naming us.

A loud voice makes us jump in fright; I'm ready to hide somewhere that's not so out in the open. Another two-legger – how many are there? – appears, shouting indecipherable words. Skincoat and Metalsmell yell at the third, making my ears ache. The third lumbers down stairs, making more noise. Standing in front of us, it's bigger than Skincoat. Skincoat says more words, and eventually the giant leaves. I take a few cautious steps forward and nudge Skincoat's back. Startled, it looks at me and makes that amused sound again. It can't be that bad.

Eventually the other two leave, and we're alone. We find family and friends and discuss what's happening. Some younger calves say that we're being taken to the building of knives, where the two-leggers chop us up for food. My legs shake with fear at the thought.

An older, wiser cow says that perhaps we're just being moved. Most of us have grown up at home and don't understand, but she explains that two-leggers do this all the time; they pack us up and take us somewhere new, where we continue living.

We're alone as the windows darken; soon we arrange ourselves in the way we did at home, mothers with calves. I'm beginning to doze off when I hear the sound of two-legger shoe on metal.

I look up, and there's Skincoat and another, longer-haired person. They're talking softly, looking at each other and us. The other person carries a soft, calming scent. They murmur quietly for a little longer. I want to know if they're talking about what will happen with us, so I moo. Awakened by my noise, others also begin mooing, and both two-leggers make laughing sounds.

I soon lose track of our time spent inside this metal creature. Each day is the same. We stand on the flat floor, unable to roam. Three times before night, three two-leggers give us hay and milk. Metalsmell and Sweetsmell are there, but so is another person. Its skin and hair is browner than cow's hide, so I call it Darknight.

In daytime the two-leggers visit us frequently, but at night we're alone. Occasionally, Skincoat and Sweetsmell sit together above us. Their voices have a gentle, soothing quality that I like to listen to at night when I wonder about my fate at the end of this journey.

One night, their quiet voices start rising, until they echo throughout the belly and wake everyone. We start mooing in distress, but they don't even notice; they keep hurling their loud voices at one another until Sweetsmell stomps off. I call out to Skincoat, but he yells his loudest yet, and we all fall silent at the same time, suddenly afraid of this normally gentle two-legger. Skincoat's voice softens, then, but we're still wary. Sighing, it too leaves.

They don't talk the next night, or the next. The third night, I'm almost asleep when I hear Skincoat tiptoeing on the walkway. He stops outside the door to Sweetsmell's room, and for several moments just stands there. Then, sighing again, he turns and leaves.

Days of talking with other cows about all the same things and being fed by Metalsmell, Sweetsmell, and Darknight pass, unchanging. Then, one ordinary day, a jolt nearly knocks us off our feet as the creature lands on real ground. We start pushing against one another, excited at this new, mysterious prospect. What's happening?

The flap behind us opens, admitting bright light we haven't seen for days upon days. Suddenly Giant is there, bellowing at us and slapping cows to make them run toward the opening. I hurry out, but not before leaving Giant a special present.

I inhale the fresh air gratefully. My legs are unused to walking, but soon I'm lumbering over the dirt, raising dust. Giant's there again, forcing us into a corral like the one at home. Skincoat's there too, with two other people I didn't notice before.

The sun is bright and hot on our backs; I can taste adventure on the air. The wise cow was right: we're in a new place, but life goes on the same.