The rest of the herd – including the friendly twoleg and the deer-twoleg – arrived shortly after. Oddly, all of them seemed uncomfortable when looking at my twoleg body and they always tried to look only at my head without seeing the rest of my body; as if the sight of a twoleg without its artificial fur was too strange for them to bear.
"That is so weird." That came from the twoleg convinced I couldn't learn but only mimic what I saw. Despite being very tempting, I had to refrain from mimicking everything he would say until one of the calves would understand who I was: I couldn't be sure if the twolegs would find it funny and, even if they would, it would way take too much time for them to understand.
"It can't be Chapman. I saw him on my way here." This time, it was from the calf that had argued the most for my death – toward the "let's kill him" option. Needless to say, I wasn't really fond of her.
"Mr. Chapman, is that you?" Their leader asked me after giving a quick look at a bird perching in the rafters.
I didn't know what to answer. I knew I could transform into a twoleg but I had no idea of which twoleg it was. I didn't even know if that Mister Chapman was with the bad twolegs or with the good ones. It wasn't a problem – since I would soon tell them I wasn't Mister, but since I wasn't expecting to find them so soon, I hadn't practiced an actual conversation with a real twoleg: I was afraid I would say something wrong that would make them think I wanted to attack their herd and/or that I was with the bad twolegs; all but one of these calves wished my death and I feared I would be killed if I gave the wrong answer without having a chance to explain my mistake.
This meant the safest option was, ironically, to get closer to the twoleg's herd. Well, to be exact, I didn't have to get closer to the herd in itself but closer to one of its member: the friendly twoleg. She would, of course, put the safety of her herd before me but I knew she was kind and that she would help me. She was, after all, the friendly twoleg.
I slowly stood up – mostly because I didn't want to look like a threat but also because twolegs only had two hooves to stand on – and made a few steps toward Cassie.
«Do not move, human».
The deer-twoleg had put his blade near my throat. It had happened so fast I hadn't even seen the tail move.
Was Mister Chapman one of the bad twolegs and the calves thought I was him? It would certainly explain why they appeared so cautious around me. In any case, I had to let them know I wasn't with the bad twolegs and that I had no intention to attack their herd.
"I…am…not…Chapman." I said as carefully as I could – I had practiced talking in my twoleg form in the past but this was the first time I would do it to communicate with another twoleg. The last thing I wanted was to say something the wrong way and be so unlucky that whatever I would say would turn out to be an insult or a threat in the twoleg language; which would be more likely to happen than one might expect since a some twoleg words sounded extremely similar to each other.
"Who are you, then?" Asked the leader of the twoleg's herd.
The day after I met the twoleg herd for the first time, I had often imagined this moment. The moment where I would meet the herd of the friendly twoleg, explain them who I was and why Cassie should feel bad. Each time, I answered the question he had just asked me without problems. After all, I only needed to give them a twoleg name and finding said twoleg name had been incredibly easy (less than a Sun after starting my activities, I had already decided to name myself "Cassie" – just like the friendly twoleg). But now, however, I was realizing things wouldn't be so simple. Sure, "Cassie" was a real twoleg name but it was also the name of the friendly twoleg – who, obviously, was currently with her herd in front of me.
Basically, if I answered my twoleg name was Cassie, they would automatically assume I was joking or trying to pass as a member of their herd; I could, of course, tell them I was the buffalo they saw a few moons ago but I doubted they would believe me – not to mention the deer-twoleg might decide to kill me before I could even speak to the friendly twoleg to prove my identity.
Long story short: there were no good answers.
Unless…
What if I told the friendly twoleg what I wanted her to know without presenting myself? Perhaps, when I would be done, the twolegs would allow me to leave if I promised not to come back.
Wait, no. That was stupid. They already saw me as a possible threat. They couldn't allow me to leave as long as they thought I might harm them; and, if I talked to the friendly twoleg without telling whom I was, they might be convinced I really was a threat.
This basically meant I had no options. If I told my "real" twoleg name, they wouldn't believe me; if I told I was the buffalo, they wouldn't believe me either and if I tried to talk to the friendly twoleg, they would think I was threatening them.
Or… What if I tried to make them happy? Twolegs always seemed to be gentler when they were happier so, if I managed to do it, it could give me some additional time to think of what to say.
And, as a bonus, it wasn't that hard to make a twoleg happy. All I had to do was to imitate a specific call of the radio (a man-made animal whose sole purpose was to talk).
"If you guess who I am in less than three guesses, you will win a two weeks trip in Paris for two persons."
To be honest, I didn't really what it meant (the radio never bothered to explain what a Paris was). All I knew was that, according to the strange animal, twolegs were always happy to hear that – especially if they won the prize.
« We do not have time to play games. » Said the deer-twoleg as he slightly moved his tail forward until it touched my throat.
Even if I hadn't spied on any deer-twolegs, I could understand the message easily: if I didn't say the correct answer now, I would be killed.
The problem? There weren't any "right" answers – or, if there was one, I didn't know it.
But the friendly twoleg would help me, right? I wasn't putting the herd in danger and, unlike the others, she was friendly; she wouldn't want me to be killed without reasons and, if I were in danger, she would even protect me. If I tried the "seeking help from the friendly twoleg" option, I might get out of here alive after telling her what she had to know. And, since it wasn't particularly hard to do, it seemed like a good plan (or, at least, the less worse plan available).
However, if I wanted to do such a plan, I needed time. I needed time to explain to her who I was. I needed a few extra seconds to "prove" who I was to the friendly twoleg before the rest of the herd would assume I was dangerous to them.
"Listen, I come in peace." I started " I don't want to harm you. I know this presentation didn't really start on the right hoo… foot, but I swear I am no threat." I looked at the face of all the members of the herds; so far, none of them looked too angry. " I didn't come to harm you or anything like that. I just came to talk to you."
I turned my head toward the friendly twoleg and, by doing so, became unable to see the entirety of the herd. Normally, as a buffalo, I would still see everything around me but, alas, twoleg eyes could only see what was in front of them; apart for the colors, those eyes were pretty much useless. It was, of course, something that made me nervous but I didn't have the luxury to do anything else.
" A few moons ago, we met each other." I told the friendly twoleg. " We didn't stay together for a long time but, when you left me, you said I was good and thanked me for saving your life." Even if I had only spied on the twolegs for two moons, I could already tell she had understood who I was; she just couldn't really believe it yet – for her, the odds of this happening were so low that there had to be an alternative explanation. She knew it was real, but couldn't believe it. " And when you left, you looked sad, as if you deeply regretted what you were doing."
This was it. The moment I had for which I had worked for two moons. I would finally tell the friendly twoleg what she needed to know.
" I just wanted to say you were good too. You did what you needed to do to protect your herd."
As soon as I had finished my sentence, the friendly twoleg understood – or, rather, believed – I really was the buffalo.
"How did you survive?" She asked – which making it the first time the young calf talked to me and expected an answer.
" I didn't do anything, really. The bad twolegs simply didn't aimed correctly and the lightning stroke close to me without killing me." I didn't need to explain who was "they". Both of us knew I was talking about the mean twolegs. " So, yeah. I was just lucky."
I couldn't tell what she was feeling. She was obviously glad I wasn't dead but she was also bothered by all the problems my survival would cause; starting with how the rest of her herd would want me to be dead and might even kill me if they had the chance – that I wasn't a threat was irrelevant, as they clearly shown last time I saw them.
" Jake? He won't attack us." Said the friendly twoleg to the leader of her herd. "He's not a threat."
I knew I was safe, now. As long as it didn't put her herd in danger, the friendly twoleg would help me.
And, if I was lucky enough, she might even teach me how to properly transform myself; last time, she didn't knew I could understand her, I couldn't answer back to her and we had to avoid the mean twolegs during the lessons. I wasn't a teacher but I doubted it was the ideal condition to learn something completely new.
"Cassie, you know him?"
I didn't really like the twoleg who had just talked. When I had first met his herd, he kept saying I wasn't learning but merely mimicking – which, according to him, meant it was ok to kill me in cold blood; then again, apart the friendly one, I didn't really like any of these twolegs – even if they hadn't said it out loud, they had all agreed with him.
Part of was tempted to say I would show them who I was and that they didn't have to worry since I had seen a lot of twolegs tell who they were to another twoleg – meaning I could mimic a presentation without difficulties. It was, however, simpler (and safer) to just turn back into my normal body. (Not to mention I wasn't sure if it was funny for a twoleg's standar).
" I can show you. " I said to the twoleg herd. " I think it will be simpler that way." I looked at the friendly twoleg to see if it was the correct thing to do. As I had noticed each time I transformed myself, the transformation wasn't instantaneous and there was no way to control how it happened; I didn't want the calves in front of me to assume I was attacking them if the transformation made me move as if I was about to hurt them (or to think the sole reason I was transforming was to attack them in a more powerful form).
As soon as Cassie nodded (which was a twoleg way of saying "yes"), I spoke to the deer-twoleg.
"If you could remove you tail from my throat, it would be appreciated." I told him. I already knew how sharp the blade was and I wasn't enough of a fool to transform myself with one placed on my throat – doing so would be begging for an accident.
"Do it, Ax." The leader said to the deer-twoleg who complied after a few seconds of hesitation.
Once the blade was out of the way, I concentrated on my buffalo form and, as always, the transformation didn't seem to follow any specific order.
The first thing to change was my head. Slowly, I felt it become heavier and heavier – to the point where I could no longer support it with my frail twoleg body and fell on the ground – while the fingers of my soft, twoleg, hooves merged to form the solid, buffalo, hooves I was used to. Once I had regained the eyes that allowed me to see all around me – included the calves standing in shock in front of me – my twolegs legs became stronger and stronger while my beloved tail started to form. With little to no delays, my twoleg arms grew stronger and became the front legs I was used to at the same moment my tail had completely formed. Finally, my fur started to appear and the rest of my twoleg body soon followed to turn into the body of a buffalo. My real body.
There was a short moment of silence as every members of the herd grasped the situation. Of course, they were smart enough to understand my identity long before I had finished the transformation, but seeing me in my normal form was still a shock for them. Not only they took for granted I had died long ago, but they also thought I wasn't intelligent enough to act like a twoleg (or even learn to talk in the first place).
"No way." Said the calf who used to be convinced I could only mimic.