A/N: Thank you for the all the love for the last chapter! With Chapter 31, we start the eight-part epilogue (which was supposed to be short, but then I started writing and it's no longer short). 

This is the last chapter in Murtasimbakri's POV. When I added in a pet goat (due to Meerab chasing the goats in the show), I never thought she'd grow into what she has, and that y'all would love Murtasimbakri and her POV chapters as much as many of you have. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for that! Onto the chapter! 

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With all the flair of a queen surveying her realm, Murtasimbakri grazed along the verdant edges of the pool of her new adobe as she thought about the weeks that had passed. Her mouth diligently worked the grass. It was her new domain, her territory to maintain – and maintain it she did with a few robust chews and the occasional head toss, especially when the blades were particularly stubborn.

If you asked Murtasimbakri Rangeeli Ahmed-Khan, humans were quite the odd spectacle. Recently, her humans had thrown a grand bash, a sort of all-you-can-eat buffet with an open invitation for people dressed in shiny clothes, something called "marriage" – which, as far as Murtasimbakri was concerned, was just a socially acceptable way to announce one's mating intentions.

Human Dad and Human Mom were only asking for permission to mate – from whom, she had no idea. Perhaps it was the man with the beard on the stage that had talked a whole lot as Human Mom and Human Dad made eyes at each other.

The whole concept baffled her. Inside the magic box that showed human lives, humans mated without any such fuss or fanfare, yet her parents had thrown a lavish multi-day party before doing what came naturally to any sensible creature.

She let out a bleat that was the very epitome of confusion. Humans and their complexities!

But oh, the wedding itself had been quite the shindig! She had strutted about in her very own ensemble, a petite version of Human Mom and Human Dad's attire. This, she knew, signified her importance – it was her duty to make sure the marriage happened since she was the reason they were together in the first place!

Through the whispers and giggles of the guests, she had gleaned that a marriage was the antithesis of the dreaded divorce. And it was splendid! A marriage meant permanence, and Murtasimbakri was all for permanence, especially if it involved keeping her humans together – she never wanted to be the child of divorced parents again, custody agreements were no fun.

After the qubool hais, she watched as Human Dad, with an air of solemn triumph, bestowed upon Human Mom a lick on the forehead, a silent oath of eternal togetherness, witnessed by an audience of teary-eyed onlookers.

What a peculiar yet heartwarming ritual!

Gone were the days of sneaking about for a covert lick or two. Now, according to the sly looks exchanged, there were no more hurdles to their affection – not that Murtasimbakri had understood the need for such privacy in the first place for something so natural.

The pre-wedding whispers from Human Dad's friends had hinted at mating, mating that followed licking in their words. Oh, how she yearned to understand! After all, knowledge was power, even for a goat of her esteemed intellect and stature, she wanted varied opinions.

But just when the explanations grew interesting, Human Dad, ever the spoilsport, had shushed his friends.

Human Dad's friends were an interesting bunch, far better than Human Mom's friends, she mused, who had engaged in what appeared to be a strange human ritual: they had snatched Human Dad's shoes and whisked them away, effectively barricading her parents from mating.

In the world according to Murtasimbakri, this was a no-go.

Determined to set things right, Murtasimbakri had taken matters into her own hooves.

Humans could be so dimwitted, as she had easily sniffed out the shoes concealed in a box typically reserved for sweets. Her nose had twitched in victory; she was clearly more astute than the Loud Speaker, who endlessly squawked for money rather than engage in any useful activity.

Even right then, she eyed the Loud Speaker with disdain as the latter pranced outside, seemingly determined to take over Human Mom's abode under the pretense of feeding her and checking in on her while her Human parents were away. Murtasimbakri didn't need the Loud Speaker, she had Human Friend—a man whose handsomeness rivaled that of her beloved Human Dad, and whose scratches were divine.

However, Human Friend's affections were misdirected lately, his attentions veering towards the Loud Speaker in an unsettling display of courtship. The thought of those two mating was beyond Murtasimbakri's comprehension—surely, the Loud Speaker's incessant screaming would be the end of poor Human Friend! He'd be better suited to Fatal Fairy, who was soft-spoken, and yet mischevious enough to understand the appeal of pushing humans into pools like she had with Human Dad's friends.

"Slow down, you don't need to eat all the grass in one day, Murtasimbakri," the Loud Speaker chided, reaching out a hand in a failed attempt at camaraderie, only to be met with Murtasimbakri's teeth snapping in the air as a firm warning.

Human Friend let out a snicker and gently patted her, she leaned into his touch with satisfaction. "I don't know why she doesn't like you," he teased the Loud Speaker.

The Loud Speaker let out an exaggerated sigh—so loud that Murtasimbakri was sure it could startle the clouds. "I don't know... I hope at least someone here likes me," she lamented theatrically, batting her eyelashes at Human Friend as if an invisible pest had lodged in her eye.

She was so obvious.

Murtasimbakri, deciding enough was enough, took a firm stance. With a well-aimed headbutt, she ushered the Loud Speaker away from her cherished Human Friend. This was her new mission—shielding Human Friend from the melodramatic clutches of the Loud Speaker who switched allegiances much too quickly. She had been displaying the same courtship behaviours towards another the week prior!

Alas, her guardianship was intermittent for they only popped in now and then to check on her. With a heavy sigh, Murtasimbakri flopped onto the cool grass. She missed her Human parents dearly and longed for the days when they'd return, hopefully with tiny human siblings for her to dote on.

In her heart, she wondered why humans insisted on traveling to some special place to mate. They should be more like goats. All one needed was a pair and love—no fanfare, no distant destinations. Mating was simple, straightforward. Why complicate it?

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Murtasimbakri's hooves clattered against the concrete with a rhythmic beat, an improvised dance of pure goat-joy three weeks later. The familiar rumble of the car rolling into the driveway sent her into a frenzy of leaps and bounds.

Human Mom and Human Dad were back!

The world was right again.

As the car halted, she was already at Human Mom's door, bouncing up and down in anticipation, her every jump higher than the last. The door creaked open, and there it was—the giggle. Human Mom's giggle. The sound cascaded through the air like a melody Murtasimbakri had longed to hear. She could barely contain her excitement, springing into the air as Human Mom descended to the ground, opening her arms for the long-awaited embrace.

"Did you miss me?" Human Mom cooed, her hands gently framing Murtasimbakri's jaw, forcing their gaze to lock as she scratched that area on her neck that everyone else missed. Murtasimbakri nodded earnestly, vigorously. Oh, if only she could speak! She would tell Human Mom just how the days had been an endless loop of waiting, waiting for her laugh, her cuddles.

Human Dad's voice came from the side. "She attacked as soon as you stepped out," he laughed, his voice a familiar baritone that resonated with affection.

Murtasimbakri didn't waste a moment. She scampered to him, her body winding around his legs in a furry hug, her snout pushing affectionately against his hands as he reached down to deliver the long-missed scratches behind her ears. Oh, the bliss!

With a surge of excitement, she darted back to Human Mom, nudging the familiar softness of her stomach. Sniffing carefully, she tried to say hello to the Human Sibling she was sure was nestled inside. After all, they had mated, so it was only right!

Yet, as days slipped into weeks, Murtasimbakri's anticipation waned, her confusion bloomed.

Human Mom's scent remained unchanged, her belly didn't swell with the promise of a new life, and no little human made an appearance.

Murtasimbakri was befuddled. If they had mated, where was the baby?

A creeping suspicion began to gnaw at her.

Were her Human parents dumb?

Did they not understand the art of mating?

Was it possible that she, Murtasimbakri, the vigilant guardian of love, would have to impart the wisdom of procreation to them?

It seemed absurd, yet in the world as seen through the eyes of a sassy, smart, and fun goat, anything was possible. Perhaps it was time for her to step in, for who better to teach them than the goat who had orchestrated their love's revival?

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In the eyes of Murtasimbakri, her human parents' grasp on mating rituals was, well, bleatingly inadequate.

With the official human-licking-mating-permission ceremony – the wedding – now a blissful memory, her parents were armed with the freedom to mate. Yet, somehow, they were as clueless as kids in a barn. It was for some goat intervention, she determined.

She huffed, cursing the lack of fingers as her hooves clumsily scrolled through the lives unfolding on the mystical box in Human Parent's room.

She was on a mission – find a life sequence that showcased humans in the act of mating. She needed educational material for her dearly beloved yet bafflingly inept human parents.

After what felt like several hay bales' worth of time, she stumbled upon one with a cover that hinted at the reproductive act.

"This must be it," she thought.

With one eye squinted, she skipped through the mundane to the pivotal scene, and with a triumphant hoof, paused the screen – right on the mating.

Then, she slipped under the bed with the stealth of a feline predator and awaited the arrival of her human parents, fresh from the bathroom.

At the sound of their footsteps, Murtasimbakri nudged button that made the magical box speak, squeezing her eyes shut as if she were just another piece of innocent décor under the bed.

Suddenly, the room echoed with the primal sounds of human mating and the unmistakable melody of mood music.

"What the fuck?" Human Dad blurted out, his voice laced with astonishment.

Bingo! Murtasimbakri knew that word - it was human for mating. If goats could grin, she would have worn a smug one.

Peering out from under the bed, she caught sight of their feet as they stood frozen in place – they would learn, they would mate, and then there would be human babies!

"Were you watching that, meri jaan?" Human Dad's tone was rich with jest.

Human Mom's laugh was like music. "No, don't lie, you put it on," she retorted.

"I did not, why would I watch – " Human Dad's voice trailed off. "...sex life?" he concluded, a note of incredulity in his voice.

"I don't know, you tell me," Human Mom countered.

"Where's the remote?" Human Dad sighed.

The hunt for the remote began, and Murtasimbakri realized, with a start, that the remote lay with her under the bed. Oops!

In a moment of panic, she nudged the incriminating evidence out into the open with her nose, it slid noisily against the floor to her displeasure.

"Murtasimbakri, are you under the bed?" Human Mom inquired.

"No," she bleated instinctively, immediately mentally face-hoofing herself for responding to the human query.

Human Mom, chuckling and bewildered, fell to the floor, peering directly into Murtasimbakri's wide, innocent eyes. With a gentle tug, she was pulled out from her hideaway.

"How does she put these things on?" Human Mom sighed, her voice a mix of amusement and mystification, as she clicked off the television, silencing the humans who had been enthusiastically demonstrating their love on screen.

Human Dad simply shrugged, an all-too-human gesture that spoke volumes of his resignation to the fact that humans were just not as smart as goats.

With a soft nudge, not unkind, Murtasimbakri found herself on the other side of the door. Outside, with her plan crumbling like a poorly baked cookie (like the ones her human parents made), she sighed, a goat's deep, melodramatic sigh.

Sitting by the door, she pondered the complex task ahead—how could she get her humans to properly mate if they couldn't even take a hint as blatant as a mating scene?

Just as she settled into her gloom, a sound drifted through the air—the unmistakable harmony of human mating! They were mating!

The possibility of a human sibling seemed suddenly within reach.

Murtasimbakri couldn't help but bleat in joy. Success, it seemed, had been unwittingly achieved.

From that pivotal day, whenever she found herself ousted to the great outdoors to perform her job, she became more observant. Each time she was sent out to mow the lawn—a task she performed with sassy flair—she took it upon herself to peek into the house from the windows.

And oh, the sights she saw!

Her human parents, emboldened by their newfound privacy, mated with a vigor that Murtasimbakri found both shocking and hilarious.

They mated on the sofa, a place she often lounged; on the dining table where she had attempted to eat a napkin; on the kitchen island she had once conquered in search of treats; against a wall which she hadn't thought possible.

They didn't stop there.

The stairs, a battleground of her daily exercise regime; the bathroom, where she had once unrolled the entire stock of toilet paper; the closet, where her favorite chewing shoes resided; their room, a familiar territory she often invaded for cuddles; the terrace, her occasional lookout point; and even the chairs by the pool, where she had often contemplated her reflection—none were spared in their amorous adventures.

Murtasimbakri, now somewhat of a connoisseur of human mating locations, took each discovery in stride.

While she may have initially sought to teach her humans the finer points of mating, she realized perhaps they had known all along—maybe even better than she did.

As she chewed on a particularly tasty patch of grass, she chuckled to herself.

Humans were strange, fascinating creatures, but they were hers, and she loved them dearly—even if they had a bizarre preference for mating locations.

Even right then, she found herself at the heart of yet another lively afternoon.

There they were, Human Mom and Human Dad, frolicking around the pool with such abandon that she was certain a new level of mating ritual was about to commence.

The splashes and laughter echoed around the yard, punctuated by shrieks of joy as they chased one another like young goats in spring.

It wasn't long before the playful licking commenced.

Murtasimbakri watched, slightly aghast but mostly intrigued, as what started as playful kisses by the sparkling waters of the pool evolved into full-blown mating.

"Ah, so the pool is the chosen spot today," she mused with a knowing nod, convinced her human sibling was now surely on the way.

Indeed, the mating was fervent and frequent.

It seemed every corner of the house had been christened with their love.

Even when Buddi Bandariya and other guests were visiting, her human parents managed a quick escapade against a door in their room, Human Dad's hand strategically placed over Human Mom's mouth to muffle the sounds.

Days turned into weeks, and Murtasimbakri's initial excitement waned to confusion.

With all this mating, she expected a whole herd of human siblings by now.

Yet, there was no sign of any baby.

No swelling belly, no baby preparations.

Nothing.

She was a goat of considerable knowledge, well-versed in the ways of baby-making, at least from a caprine perspective.

Why then were there no little humans toddling around?

Human Mom should have been teeming with offspring at this rate!

Was there something amiss with Human Dad? Or perhaps Human Mom? Murtasimbakri pondered deeply, her goat brain working overtime as she chewed on a particularly tough blade of grass.

Humans were indeed the most confusing creatures. She had seen cats, dogs, and even the pesky squirrels manage their offspring production with far less fuss.

One bright morning, as she lay sprawled by the poolside, still half-watching her human parents who seemed just as affectionate (and confusingly non-pregnant as ever), Murtasimbakri contemplated her next moves.

Perhaps, she considered, it was time to delve deeper into the mysteries of human reproduction.

Maybe a visit to the mystical box would offer some new insights.

Or perhaps she needed to consult with the wise old barn cat, who seemed to have a litter of kittens every spring without fail.

But for now, as the sun warmed her coat and the gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, Murtasimbakri decided to simply enjoy the peace.

After all, solving human mysteries could wait another day; sunbathing by the pool, however, was a fleeting joy.

And who knew?

Maybe tomorrow, Human Mom might finally show a sign of a human sibling.

Until then, Murtasimbakri would keep watching, waiting, and wondering—always one step away from her next great adventure in understanding the peculiar world of her beloved human family.

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10 months later...

Murtasimbakri Rangeeli Ahmed-Khan, the most illustrious goat to ever trot out of Suleman Bhai's Farm, had returned to her roots, and the farm was abuzz with excitement. She wasn't just any goat; she was a goat with a résumé that could outshine even the most seasoned of farm animals.

"As you can see," Roshan, her brother, announced to the gathered crowd of eager farm animals, "Murtasimbakri isn't just a family member, she's an icon—a beacon of aspirational goat-hood!" Roshan's voice held a mix of pride and perhaps a pinch of envy as he looked at his sister, who was busy adjusting the stylish little vest Human Mom had dressed her in for the trip.

Murtasimbakri, adorned with ribbons that fluttered in the gentle breeze, stepped forward, her hooves manicured to perfection, reflecting her city life. She cleared her throat—a polite little bleat—and began, "It's lovely to be here with you all today." Her voice, melodious and practiced, carried across the farmyard.

She continued, "Human Mom is celebrating her 24th birthday today. They've flown to a far-away land yet again. Human Dad insisted I come along, but the thing with humans is, you have to give them privacy sometimes, so here I am!" She winked, which looked more like a dramatic blink given her lack of eyelids, causing a ripple of giggles among the younger goats.

"Have you been on a car?!" piped up a young goat, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes, I have," Murtasimbakri nodded, her ribbons bobbing comically.

"A train?" another chimed in, bouncing on her hooves.

She laughed—a hearty, bleating chuckle—and replied, "Oh no, darling, humans with money don't travel on trains in this country." Her comment drew a round of laughter, some of the older goats nodding knowingly, as if they too understood the nuances of human socioeconomic statuses.

As the laughter subsided, a particularly cheeky young goat asked, "What about those things in the sky? Have you gone of those, then?"

Murtasimbakri flicked her tail, a smirk on her goatish face. "I have not, but I have seen how it looks. And let me tell you, the view from up there is nothing compared to the view from the top of our barn. Why look at clouds when you can watch the chickens plotting their next coop coup?"

The crowd erupted into laughter again. Murtasimbakri was not just sharing stories; she was performing, her tales peppered with the dramatic flair that only a goat who had seen the world could possess.

"And what about the food? Do you eat fancy city goat food now?" asked a cow who had joined the crowd, intrigued by the celebrity goat.

Murtasimbakri pretended to ponder this deeply. "Well, you might say that. I dine on a variety of artisanal grasses. You know, the kind that's watered with fresh water from a hose." She paused for effect, then added with a twinkle in her eye, "But between you and me, nothing beats the good old patch of clover behind our barn."

This time, even Roshan couldn't help but join in the laughter.

The storytelling session had turned into a riot of questions, laughter, and wide-eyed amazement. Murtasimbakri, ever the entertainer, stood regally on a large bale of hay at Suleman Bhai's farm, her audience of farm animals hanging on her every word.

"What are humans like? Like Suleman's son?" a curious young cow ventured, its voice full of innocence.

Murtasimbakri scoffed theatrically, waving her hoof dismissively. "Not at all, my dear. Humans, like us, are all different. Though, to be honest, they look about the same to us. But make no mistake, they are intriguing creatures—never a dull moment with them around!"

"Tell them about the divorce!" Badal, her brother, prompted with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He knew that this part of her story was a crowd-pleaser.

Murtasimbakri sighed for dramatic effect, her audience leaning in closer. "In your goat lives, you may be adopted by humans, who are interesting creatures indeed. They love but choose not to show it; they delay mating; they are on the precipice of divorce all the time."

"What's divorce?" piped up a puzzled-looking goat, son of Gulab, his ears perked in confusion.

"It's when Human Mom and Human Dad don't want to be together anymore. They live separately, and then you have to wonder where you'll go—sometimes it's just with one of them, other times they share so you see them both, but never together. My human parents got divorced... it was the worst of times, but I got them back together." She finished proudly, relishing the awed bleating and murmurs of admiration from her audience.

"How?" a chorus of voices bleated.

Murtasimbakri settled in, ready to recount her tale of intrigue and matchmaking. "It all started when Human Dad decided Human Mom was better off without him..." She wove her tale with gusto, describing the ups and downs, the tears, the fact that Human Dad loved Human Mom but wouldn't tell her, the suitors—two of whom were still oddly around—and how she masterfully nudged them back together.

"I even had to show Bipolar Lawman what was happening to prompt their marriage. I was headbutting them towards each other, helping Human Dad sneak into Human Mom's room. I did the absolute most, and finally, after years, they got married," she concluded, her chest puffing up with pride.

"What's married?" Baahar's daughter, who had been following the story with bated breath, asked.

"It's when two humans promise to mate only with each other and no one else," she explained, which seemed to make sense to the young goats, who all nodded sagely.

"How come you didn't get married?" asked Baadal's daughter, a cheeky little thing with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Murtasimbakri laughed, a rich, melodious sound that filled the air. "Oh, I've been much too busy between ensuring that my human parents are happy and managing my career." She sighed dramatically.

"Career? What's that?" piped up a young calf, its large eyes blinking curiously at Murtasimbakri.

"A job," Murtasimbakri began, pausing to make sure her audience was paying attention. "I have a large land to look after. Being the only goat there, I have to mow it all, drive intruders away. But there's always nice grass, so I enjoy it. And when Human Mom and Dad go to work, I also inspect all the flowers they keep planting."

"Do you eat them?!" an excited goat asked, leaning forward with an expectant look.

Murtasimbakri chuckled, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "My Human Dad brings me flowers to eat all the time. The ones in the garden are dangerous because they have thorns and bugs, but he gets me just the flowers," she said proudly, puffing up her chest a bit as murmurs of how much her Human Dad must love her circled around.

"What's living with humans like?" Roshan's son asked, the younger generation clearly intrigued by the idea of such an exotic life.

"It's amazing, but married humans are somehow worse than rabbits," Murtasimbakri said, nodding towards Billu and Bano, the two bunnies on the farm who had recently had a large litter. Billu, caught by the comment, gave a guilty start, he had been standing suspiciously behind Bano.

Murtasimbakri continued, her voice lowering conspiratorially, drawing her audience closer. "They mate so many times, everywhere—"

"Everywhere?" Badal asked, a broad grin spreading across his face.

Murtasimbakri nodded, sighing dramatically. "Bed, sofas, dining table, inside the pool, outside the pool, on any piece of furniture a human can sit on, even on the kitchen counters—"

"That's for eating!" Roshan gasped, his eyes wide with horror.

"I know!" Murtasimbakri exclaimed, her tone one of scandalized amusement. "Human Dad did eat... but then they mated there! I made them clean it thoroughly after!"

The farm erupted into boisterous laughter, the animals nearly rolling on the ground. The image of Murtasimbakri policing her human parents' mating habits, especially on kitchen counters, was too much for the simple farm folk.

One cheeky piglet, not to be outdone, snorted, "So, what you're saying is, humans don't just eat their meals on tables?"

Murtasimbakri, not missing a beat, replied, "Oh, they consume all kinds of meals on tables, some more enthusiastically than others!"

This elicited another round of laughter, the young piglet puffing up with pride at having contributed to the hilarity. The older animals shook their heads, chuckling at the absurdity but also secretly impressed by the cosmopolitan life of their fellow farm alumna.

"Humans forget everything when it comes to mating. They have weird rituals," she declared.

"Like?" the piglet prompted again, his snout wiggling in anticipation of another ludicrous human story.

"They buy matching metal hunks after getting married—cars, they call them. They kiss all the time, and Human Dads talk to Human Moms' stomach all the time when she is with child. They tell the child so many things, and even sing to her while hugging Human Mom's stomach!" Murtasimbakri illustrated with exaggerated motions, pretending to serenade an invisible belly, much to the amusement of her audience.

"Is she with child?" Pari, the ever-curious goat, asked with wide eyes.

Murtasimbakri grinned, the ribbons in her fur fluttering as she nodded. "After trying I don't know how many times, Human Dad has finally figured out how to put a baby in her! They are having a daughter, she will arrive in the summer!" Her announcement was met with happy bleats and enthusiastic stomping of hooves from around her.

"I've been so busy helping them prepare, I guard the baby inside Human Mom's stomach closely. I follow her around everywhere because Human Dad has entrusted me with keeping her safe," she explained, puffing up her chest with importance.

They all nodded, completely taken in by the tale. "How do humans prepare for a baby?" Pari asked, her curiosity piqued by this new line of conversation.

"Oh, they do a lot! Weirdly, they continue to mate a lot which makes no sense. But between that, they have set up her room, they talk to her all the time to teach her things, they buy clothes and diapers—" Murtasimbakri continued, only to be interrupted by a chorus of confused sounds.

"Diapers?!" came a collective gasp from her audience.

"Humans can be disgusting, their babies don't just go anywhere... they go inside this contraption that stays on them until the parents remove it." Murtasimbakri described, her face contorted in disgust, causing roars of incredulous bleats from her audience.

The animals made sounds of disgust, some of the younger goats jumping back as if the mere idea was contagious. "So they carry around their...their mess? Inside their clothes?" a baffled goat asked, unable to hide his horror.

"I know, I know, it's the worst," she chuckled in response to the collective disgust over diapers. "But the clothes they've gotten for the baby are cute. People even send them gifts, all kinds of things. Their handsome friend, who has really nice human skin, keeps sending them presents for some 'Shahmeera Khan' who doesn't live there... but they are actually baby clothes and toys!"

"Your humans live alone?" Pari asked, intrigued by the complex social life of humans.

Murtasimbakri nodded, "Just the two of them, but they have visitors. Bipolar Lawman and Confused Aatma visit sometimes. Human Aunt does too, and they often have friends over—it's loud on the weekends. But most of the time, it's just them. They lock themselves away in the room for the most part."

"Are they happy?" Pari pressed, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Very!" Murtasimbakri affirmed with a proud nod.

"When are you going back?" Roshan asked. "You must tell us more about humans before you leave."

"I am here for a while. Human Mom and Dad are going to another marriage after their return from Dubai, the man will be the future leader of the country! But he is marrying someone who keeps calling him 'gareeb'," she relayed, causing the crowd to snicker.

"Are you going to get mated?" Pari's daughter piped up suddenly, drawing a round of curious looks.

Murtasimbakri shrugged nonchalantly, "If I find a goat worth mating."

"We must introduce her to Shahid!" Roshan exclaimed excitedly.

"Shahid?" Murtasimbakri asked, tilting her head to the side, intrigued.

"New goat. Suleman's son bought him from somewhere," Pari whispered, leaning closer. "He's quiet... and a little dumb, but very good looking."

"Where?" Murtasimbakri pressed, her interest piqued.

"There," Pari said, nudging her to look the other way.

Murtasimbakri's eyes followed where Pari pointed, and there he was. Shahid was indeed a fine specimen, big and strong, with a luscious white coat that almost sparkled under the sun. The crowd of animals parted as Murtasimbakri stood up, shaking her fur out like a diva preparing for a grand entrance.

With a sassy flick of her tail, she sauntered over to him, her movements full of confidence and a touch of flirtation. Shahid, for his part, seemed slightly overwhelmed but managed a bashful smile, his ears twitching as Murtasimbakri approached.

"Hi," she bleated, her voice smooth as silk. "I hear you're the new handsome goat around here."

Shahid blushed, if a goat could blush, mumbling something inaudible. His bashfulness only made him more endearing.

The onlooking animals couldn't help but chuckle at this exchange. Murtasimbakri, always the center of attention, now seemed genuinely interested in the newcomer. She circled around him, inspecting him from different angles, her eyes appreciative of his fine form.

Quiet and a little dumb. She thought. Sometimes, that's exactly what you need in a mate—less talking, more... grazing.

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A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, if you have a favourite part, let me know - either from this chapter or from any of MBK's POV! 

In the next epilogue chapter, we'll meet a pregnant Meerab, Murtasim, and a couple that they helped immensely will make an appearance to tie up some loose ends, hehehe.