Humans were strange creatures, Murtasimbakri Khan mused, nibbling on a particularly juicy tuft of grass. Their behavior patterns were incomprehensible, and their communications, a cacophony of bewildering sounds.

Her Human Mom was delightfully peculiar. She had a voice like tinkling bells, tender hands that fed and caressed with equal finesse, and eyes that twinkled with unspoken tales of joy and mischief, and a hint of sadness that didn't suit her. Human Mom had left some time ago, leaving Murtasimbakri in the capable, albeit reluctant, hands of Human Dad.

The stern-faced, grumbling Human Dad, was a study in contradiction. He was big and intimidating, but his eyes softened when they landed on Human Mom, melting into pools of warmth.

With Human Mom's departure, whenever he was in Murtasimbakri's presence, he insisted, in his deep, rumbling voice, "I don't want to hear about Meerab," and then proceed to ramble about her, his words weaving a canvas of concern, longing, and a myriad of emotions Murtasimbakri couldn't decipher.

The days rolled on, each dawn and dusk marking the passage of time in a slow, tantalizing dance of shadows and light. Murtasimbakri missed Human Mom terribly, missing the sweet cadence of her voice, the gentle touch of her hands, and the love that seemed to radiate from her like the sun's warmth. However, Human Dad, despite his gruff demeanor, provided solace. He would sit beside her in the evenings, a contemplative expression painting his rugged features, his gaze lost in the horizon, his thoughts undoubtedly about Human Mom.

She was getting quite bored in the spacious haveli without Human Mom, until Human Dad took her on a trip, to the farm he had gotten her from.

Murtasimbakri trotted excitedly through the familiar farm gates, her tail wagging with anticipation. She had heard so much about this place, the land of her birth, and yet, due to her early adoption, she hadn't really gotten to explore it. Today was special. Human Dad was taking her to visit her birth family - her brothers and sisters who were eager to show her around.

Her brother, Badal, with his pitch-black coat, and her sister, Bahaar, who was as white as the clouds, greeted her with nuzzles and excited bleats. They were quickly joined by their myriad siblings, each with their distinct appearances and personalities. There was Gulab, who had a unique pink hue to her coat, and Pari, the prettiest little lamb who had captivating blue eyes. And their eldest sibling, Roshan, who had the whitest fur and an angry disposition.

Badal and Bahaar, acting as the seasoned guides, showed her around. They introduced her to the art of selecting the juiciest patches of grass, shared secrets on finding the coziest napping spots, and regaled her with tales of the infamous 'Farm Olympics' where animals raced and played games.

More than the places and the stories, it was the wisdom that fascinated Murtasimbakri. Bahaar told her about love – how every season, the most handsome rams courted the prettiest ewes with elaborate dances and serenades. Gulab and Pari shared hushed tales of passionate romances and broken hearts among the farm animals. Badal, always the serious one, enlightened her about the intricacies of mating.

In between all the lessons and stories, there was farm gossip. From feuds between roosters to the scandalous love triangle involving a duck, a hen, and a rather charismatic turkey, Murtasimbakri was introduced to a world of drama she had never known.

After absorbing the various farm tales her siblings shared, Murtasimbakri was bubbling with enthusiasm to reciprocate with her own stories. Sitting amid her brothers and sisters, she began weaving tales about the two most fascinating creatures she had observed – Human Dad and Human Mom.

She excitedly described to her siblings the fascinating dance of human conversation.

Every time Human Mom leaned forward, emphasizing a point or sharing a secret, Human Dad would unwittingly lean in too. And when Human Dad took a step back, perhaps overwhelmed by the intensity of the conversation, Human Mom would mirror the movement, ensuring the space between them remained constant. This dance of forward-and-backward had become such a routine, it looked like a choreographed performance.

Then came the quirky tales, where Human Dad, for some baffling reason, started imitating Human Mom's movements. Murtasimbakri described with animated gestures how when Human Mom gracefully tucked her hair behind her ear, Human Dad would touch his ear, despite being bereft of any hair straying into his eyes.

She then touched upon the intense moments where their disagreements brought them inexplicably close. Their faces, especially their lips, barely a whisper away from each other, making Murtasimbakri wonder if this was a new kind of human mating ritual.

The puzzling yet endearing displays of affection intrigued her the most. While Human Mom often found herself immersed in conversations about Human Dad, even in his absence, Human Dad was a study in contrasts. Often claiming indifference, yet every action screamed his fondness for Human Mom.

The descriptions left the farm animals enraptured. These human interactions were unlike any tale they had ever encountered. One of her siblings, intrigued, pondered about how these humans express their affection. To this, Murtasimbakri excitedly spoke of unique human courtship rituals: gifts like shoes and clothes softer than the finest wool.

One story that particularly piqued the interest of Murtasimbakri's siblings was when Human Dad fell ill. Murtasimbakri described the ensuing flurry of activity by Human Mom. She diligently searched for remedies, eventually preparing aromatic dishes in the kitchen like the famed chicken soup (which she said in a whisper because she didn't want the chickens to overhear) and a steaming cup of tea. However, what perplexed Murtasimbakri was Human Mom's reluctance to serve these comforting concoctions directly to Human Dad. Instead, she delegated the task to the kitchen staff. This quirky behavior, perhaps, was another mystifying nuance of human courtship.

Then came the most awaited moment of the day – introducing her family to Human Dad. As Murtasim entered the farmyard, a murmur of appreciation went through the crowd of animals. The hens clucked approvingly, the cows mooed their admiration, and the female sheep exchanged knowing glances. It seemed everyone was in agreement – Human Dad was undeniably handsome.

Murtasimbakri, puffing her chest out with pride, paraded Human Dad around, introducing him to all the animals. "This is Human Dad," she would declare, receiving approving nods and curious sniffs in return. She even bragged, "And you should see Human Mom! She's the prettiest thing in the world!" Even though none of the animals had seen Human Mom, they took Murtasimbakri's word for it. After all, if Human Dad was this dashing, Human Mom had to be a vision.

By the end of the day, as the sun cast golden hues over the farm, Murtasimbakri felt a profound sense of contentment. She had bonded with her birth family, learned the ways of the farm, and proudly showcased her Human Dad. The day had been nothing short of magical. The only thing that could make it better was if Human Mom came back.

-------------------------------------------

A peculiar excitement vibrated through the air that day, drawing the attention of one Murtasimbakri Khan. Human Dad was doing something unusual with the small, glowing rectangle he often stared at. This time, however, there was a different sort of light in his eyes, a mix of nervous anticipation that seemed to make the atmosphere taut with expectation. It was odd seeing such expression on his usually stoic face, thought Murtasimbakri.

Then, the magical device made a trilling noise, and Human Dad's eyes flickered, capturing a certain warmth as he answered. And suddenly, there she was—Human Mom's face appeared within the confines of the screen, her eyes sparkling like the first rays of dawn, her voice a harmonious melody that had been absent for far too long.

Murtasimbakri Khan froze, her eyes wide, pupils dilating with a mix of thrill and sheer panic. There was Human Mom, trapped in that tiny box, looking as lovely as the blooming flowers in spring, but trapped nonetheless!

With a horrified "baah," she lunged towards the device, head first, trying to butt it open to free Human Mom from her sleek, shining prison. Each attempt was paired with a desperate cry, her small body tense with determination. She couldn't let Human Mom stay stuck in there!

"What are you doing?" Human Dad's voice echoed with confusion, eyebrows furrowing as he observed the desperate attempts unfolding before him. Murtasimbakri could barely process his words, focused as she was on the urgent rescue mission at hoof. "Stop it!"

Then, a laughter, bright and tinkling, danced through the air. Human Mom was laughing, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Does she miss me that much? Trying to come through the screen to me?"

Murtasimbakri paused mid-motion, turning her head slightly, baffled. How could Human Mom sound so joyful while ensnared in the clutches of the glowing prison?

She regarded the device with suspicion, the glowing face of Human Mom still radiating warmth and happiness despite her apparent captivity. Did she not realize she was trapped? How would she pet her if she was stuck in there?!

Murtasimbakri glanced back at the device, then back at Human Dad, her gaze skeptical. If Human Mom wasn't in the device, then how was her voice caressing the air, her eyes moving, looking at them with the same love and tenderness that used to wrap around Murtasimbakri like a warm, comforting blanket?

And why was Human Dad not concerned about it?

The small goat decided, in her infinite wisdom, that humans were not only strange but also quite beyond her understanding. With a huff, she resigned to her confusion, sitting beside Human Dad, her eyes still flickering with uncertainty and concern as she stared at the magical box that showed her Human Mom.

If Human Mom could smile and laugh from within the rectangle, then perhaps there was magic in the world that even a wise and perceptive goat like Murtasimbakri couldn't grasp. And that, she supposed with a flick of her tail, was perfectly okay. Sometimes, mysteries were meant to be savored, not solved.

-------------------------------------------

Murtasimbakri Khan found herself languishing in the tepid sun, her fur clinging awkwardly to her skin, the aftermath of another rushed, perfunctory bath administered by one of the staff members. She missed the tender, attentive care of Human Mom, who took time, ensuring the water was just the right temperature, massaging her skin gently, and oh, the scratches behind the ears! Those were heavenly.

With a wistful baah, Murtasimbakri's gaze shifted to Human Dad's office, the door conspicuously ajar. There was a time when Human Dad acted like he didn't want her in there, pretending to shoo her away with furrowed brows and serious eyes, though she could sense the amusement dancing beneath the surface. Now, the door always stood open, an unspoken invitation for her presence.

Human Dad was enigmatic, a puzzle wrapped in layers of contradictions and mysteries. He still murmured that he didn't want to dwell on thoughts of Human Mom, yet his voice would weave tales about her, the timbre soft and tinged with a warmth that painted pictures in the air, ten minutes at a stretch, sometimes longer.

Said he wasn't concerned about her, and yet his fingers would dance across the small glowing device, dispatching images of Murtasimbakri to Human Mom. When the device would chime in return, a smile, subtle and tender, would play across Human Dad's features, his eyes lighting up with a silent joy that spoke volumes.

Over time, Murtasimbakri began to understand the peculiar magic of the phones. Once, Human Dad had shown her a reflection of herself ensnared within the confines of the screen, and while it was unmistakably her, she wasn't truly in there. It was a captivating, bewildering form of enchantment, one that allowed her to see and hear Human Mom without her physical presence.

When the longing for Human Mom grew too strong, Murtasimbakri would approach Human Dad with determined nudges and insistent baahs, imploring him to summon the magical window that bridged the distance between her and Human Mom. At first, Human Dad seemed hesitant, but as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he yielded more readily, understanding the silent request echoing in Murtasimbakri's eyes.

So, the little goat would sit beside Human Dad, her eyes fixated on the glowing screen, drinking in the sight and sound of Human Mom, feeling the invisible threads of connection weaving through the ether, drawing them closer despite the miles stretching between. And in those moments, with the soft glow illuminating the space around them, everything felt right in the world of Murtasimbakri Khan.

-------------------------------------------

Murtasimbakri Khan bore witness to many strange occurrences in the vast expanse of their dwelling, but none so bizarre and unsettling as the arrival of the witch. The woman, named Haya by others, was unmistakably a witch in Murtasimbakri's eyes - she screamed in a manner most discordant and unpleasant, and her demeanor was positively erratic.

The witch's hair was long, cascading like a waterfall of darkness, but it lacked the luster and softness of Human Mom's tresses. Every fiber of Murtasimbakri's being was attuned to the danger she represented, a threat lurking beneath the surface of her manic laughter and wild eyes.

With frequent sojourns to the farm where she mingled with her siblings, Murtasimbakri had garnered a wealth of knowledge about the mysteries of life, including the delicate dance of mating. It didn't take her long to decipher the witch's intentions. The witch harbored designs on Human Dad, attempting to weave a spell to ensnare him, to claim him as her own.

However, Murtasimbakri would not stand for it. She had sensed the invisible threads of connection binding Human Mom and Human Dad together, intertwining destinies and hearts. The air around them hummed with the melody of their unspoken love, a symphony that resonated within the recesses of Murtasimbakri's soul.

Therefore, it fell upon her, Murtasimbakri Khan, the defender of love and guardian of hearts, to thwart the witch's advances. With a battle cry – or rather, battle baah – that reverberated through the air, she launched herself at the witch whenever she dared approach Human Dad, her small head connecting with the woman's legs and sending her tumbling backward, screeching like a banshee in the night.

Much to Murtasimbakri's delight, her valiant efforts bore fruit. Human Dad's eyes twinkled with mirth, laughter spilling from his lips like the tinkling of bells, the sound wrapping around them in a cocoon of joy. He showered her with affection, his hands delivering those heavenly scratches while he praised her, words of approval and love flowing in a gentle stream.

Murtasimbakri knew of the bull at the farm, a creature without discernment or loyalty, mating indiscriminately without a care in the world. But Human Dad was different, cut from a cloth so refined that it shimmered with the light of stars. He was a one-Human Mom kind of guy, and that realization filled Murtasimbakri with an indescribable warmth.

In recognition of his steadfastness, his unwavering dedication to Human Mom, Murtasimbakri bestowed upon Human Dad her highest honor, showering him with licks and kisses, a token of her approval and affection. Together, they stood, guardians of love, defenders of hearts, waiting for the day when Human Mom would return from the land of cellphones to claim her rightful place beside Human Dad.

-------------------------------------------

As the village became quieter, a bit colder, Murtasimbakri felt a void. She missed Human Mom dearly. The days without Human Mom's cheerful laughter echoing through the fields or the gentle caress of her hands made the baby goat yearn for the sun-kissed memories of days gone by.

However, in Human Mom's absence, Murtasimbakri and Human Dad became an inseparable duo, with Murtasimbakri often following him around like a shadow. During their long strolls through the village, Human Dad would sometimes talk to her as if she were human, pouring out his feelings, his confusions, and at times, his sorrow.

One thing she couldn't help but notice was Human Dad's ever-present conflict. She recalled Human Dad murmuring, "I won't think about her," but then minutes later, he'd be lost in a deep reverie, clearly lost in thoughts of Human Mom. There were also times when the familiar ring of his phone would pierce the silent nights. Murtasimbakri knew it was Human Mom calling from the specific tune it played. However, Murtasim would sometimes stare at the phone, a tempest of emotions evident in his eyes, and choose not to answer. It seemed as if it physically pained him to ignore the call.

Murtasimbakri wished she could understand the complex emotions of humans. Why would Human Dad say one thing and then act in a completely opposite manner? She wished she could tell him that it's okay to miss someone, to reach out when the heart yearns for a connection.

But she did what she knew best. She stayed by Human Dad's side, offering her silent comfort, a nuzzle here and there, hoping her presence could ease some of the pain and confusion he felt.

-------------------------------------------

During one of her visits to the farm, Murtasimbakri was soaking in the latest farm gossip with her siblings when she heard a term that sent her spiraling: "divorce." It was Badal, the mischievous one, who casually mentioned it while talking about the farmer and his wife. The farmer had been staying in the barn for a few days because he and his wife were contemplating a "divorce."

"What's a divorce?" Murtasimbakri inquired, her ears perked up in curiosity.

Pari, always eager to share her knowledge, explained, "It's when two human mates decide they don't want to be mates anymore. So, they just... separate."

Murtasimbakri's eyes widened in horror. She started piecing together the puzzle: the phone calls that Murtasim didn't answer, the silence, the distance. Oh, the cloven-hoofed calamity! Were Human Mom and Dad getting a divorce?!

Pari continued, "and sometimes..." she paused for dramatic effect, "their kids have to choose who they want to stay with in a court."

Murtasimbakri's eyes widened in terror. She began imagining herself in a courtroom, a stern-looking judge asking her, "Who do you want to live with, child? Human Mom or Human Dad?"

As she grappled with this nightmarish vision, Badal added, "And then there's the custody battle! One parent might get you on weekdays, the other on weekends."

She could see it all too clearly now, the gut-wrenching choice of spending her days grazing in Human Mom's sunny pastures or spending her nights under the stars in Human Dad's fields.

Then Roshan, the eldest of the siblings, the one who glared at Human Dad whenever he was around, chimed in, "Oh, and sometimes, they even take their fight to a place called 'court.' A place where they argue about who gets the kid, so you can't even see both of them."

Murtasimbakri's heart raced. A courtroom! She'd stand in the witness box, recounting tales of her life, having to decide on the spot, under the intense scrutiny of human eyes, which parent she loved more.

"And the holidays!" Pari exclaimed, "Split between two homes. Can you imagine? Eid here, New Year's there. Never truly belonging to one place."

The weight of the revelations was too much for Murtasimbakri. She could already feel the heartache of having to split her time, the pain of divided loyalties, the sheer exhaustion of packing her little sheep suitcase every other weekend.

Badal, noticing the distress in Murtasimbakri's eyes, tried to backtrack, "But, you know, not all humans divorce. Some just argue. They have weird ways of showing love."

But Murtasimbakri was far gone. She was convinced. She needed to do something, anything, to prevent such a catastrophe. The farm wasn't prepared for the storm that was about to be unleashed in the form of a sheep's desperate attempt to save her human family from the perils of divorce.

-------------------------------------------

The sun hung low, casting a warm hue over the room. Murtasim was lounging on the couch, engrossed in papers. But Murtasimbakri, vigilant as ever, had other priorities. She was on a mission - a mission to ensure that Human Mom and Dad did not end up divorced. Grazing nearby, she appeared to be engrossed in her fodder, but she was really keeping an ear out for any sound that resembled Human Mom's ringtone.

The first few notes of the familiar melody began, and Murtasimbakri's ears perked up instantly. Recognizing the tone, she charged headfirst towards Murtasim with a determination only a sheep on a divine mission would have.

"Baaahhh!"

Startled, Human Dad barely had time to register what was happening before he found himself in the path of her speeding approach. The phone was ringing louder, and Murtasimbakri's intentions were clear: Answer it!

"Whoa! Murtasimbakri, not again!" Human Dad exclaimed, dodging just in time but finding himself cornered with the phone right beside him.

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked, exasperation in his tone.

Murtasimbakri merely nudged the phone with her nose, pushing it closer to Human Dad's hand, trying her best to make him understand the urgency of the situation. Yet, despite her persistent efforts, Human Dad refused to pick up the call. The phone eventually stopped ringing, and Murtasimbakri's disappointment was palpable.

After a moment of tense silence, Human Dad, unaware of the depth of her disappointment, attempted to pet her. However, Murtasimbakri, her heart heavy with the feeling of a mission failed and upset at Human Dad's nonchalance, nipped at his hand.

Human Dad pulled back in surprise. "What's gotten into you?"

Murtasimbakri just huffed and turned away, secretly vowing to redouble her efforts next time. After all, a sheep on a mission was not to be trifled with.

-------------------------------------------

Murtasimbakri had seen it happen at the farm. After the farmer wrote love notes to his wife, there was laughter, conversation, and the frosty atmosphere seemed to thaw. Pari had gossiped about it at length, highlighting how a simple act of writing feelings down could do wonders. It seemed like the perfect solution for Human Dad's woes.

So, one afternoon, with an elaborate plan in mind, Murtasimbakri managed to find a piece of paper and a pen in the study room. Using her dexterity and her mouth, she carried the duo out into the living area where Human Dad was reading. The paper was set down neatly, the pen nudged to land right next to it. She took a step back, her eyes fixated on Human Dad, willing him to understand her intention.

However, Human Dad looked at the writing tools, then at Murtasimbakri, then back at the tools, perplexed. "What's this for? You want to draw?" He chuckled.

Murtasimbakri, growing frustrated, nudged the paper closer to his feet. Her eyes practically screamed, "Use it!" She then proceeded to baaah softly, trying to convey a sense of urgency.

Human Dad scratched his head, trying to decode the enigmatic sheep's antics. "You need this for... something?" he asked, completely missing the mark.

Murtasimbakri took a deep breath, trying to contain her exasperation. As handsome as Human Dad was, he was genuinely a bit dumb.

In her head, she was shouting, WRITE HER A LETTER! TELL HER WE MISS HER AND THAT YOU TWO SHOULDN'T DIVORCE!

Then, with all the drama she could muster, Murtasimbakri flopped down beside the paper, resting her head on it, giving Human Dad her most sorrowful look, hoping he would catch on.

Human Dad bent down, petting her head. "Ajeeb ho tum, bilkul Meerab ki tarah."

At the mere mention of Human Mom's name, Murtasimbakri's ears perked up. Her eyes widened, and her energy surged. With a sudden burst of excitement, she began to prance around the room, her hooves clattering against the floor, her joy evident in every leap and bound.

Seeing her exuberance, a small smile formed on Human Dad's face, "You want to see her that badly, huh?" he sighed, taking a moment to absorb the raw emotion displayed by the little sheep.

Turning away, Human Dad picked up the phone from the table, his fingers hovering over the screen. He paused, seemingly caught in a battle of emotions. In a soft mutter, almost lost to Murtasimbakri amidst her jumps, he whispered, "But every time I see her, it all comes back... I thought if she was gone, everything would disappear, but it's not... and I can't have that."

Murtasimbakri stopped her frolic, her gaze fixing on Human Dad. She tilted her head, trying to decode the weight of his words. Why were humans so complicated?

-------------------------------------------

At her next visit to the farm, Murtasimbakri regaled her siblings with the recent events at Human Dad's place, emphasizing his enigmatic words and behaviour. Her siblings, always full of wisdom, pondered over her recounting.

Pari, with a thoughtful look, mused, "Maybe he just needs to remember how Human Mom made him feel. You know, the farmer once forgot his wife's birthday, and he sang to her and played her favorite songs on the radio to make up for it."

A light bulb went off in Murtasimbakri's head. That was it! She would recreate a romantic ambiance to remind Human Dad of his love for Human Mom.

Human Dad sat in his living room, laptop open, sounds were coming from the laptop, humans talking, something about finances and purchases. The tension in the room was palpable, and every word and gesture was weighed with significance. It was, quite possibly, the worst time for Murtasimbakri to enact her brilliant plan.

Murtasimbakri made her move. Spotting a nearby radio, she nudged it with her snout, trying to change the channel to play romantic tunes.

However, her lack of opposable thumbs and understanding of the human device proved to be a hindrance. Instead of a romantic ballad, the room was suddenly filled with a dramatic news jingle. Murtasimbakri, taken aback, tried again.

But, oh the irony! The room was instantly filled with a cheery advertisement about bathroom cleaners. "Scrub away your worries with our new..." the radio blared.

Human Dad's eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me for a moment," he said to the computer, pressing something on the weird headset he wore before rushing to turn off the radio. Murtasimbakri, not one to be deterred so easily, waited for him to resume his talking and promptly switched it on again.

This time, the melodious strains of a jingle about pizza delivery rang out. "Hot and cheesy, right to your door!"

"What is wrong with you?" Human Dad hissed, shooting a bewildered glance at Murtasimbakri, who innocently batted her eyes, pretending she had nothing to do with the sudden musical interludes.

Trying to retain his composure, he switched the radio off again, apologizing to the computer for the interruptions. But just as he started talking again, Murtasimbakri struck again. This time, the air was filled with a dramatic radio soap opera.

"Armaan! I cannot live without you," a voice declared dramatically.

Human Dad's patience was wearing thin. "What is wrong with you?" he repeated, turning off the radio and attempting to barricade it from the persistent sheep with a couple of cushions.

Murtasimbakri, realizing her plan was failing spectacularly, took a step back, looking somewhat dejected.

-------------------------------------------

Murtasimbakri had concluded that Human Dad was a lost cause. It was time for a change of strategy. During her introspections and observations, she had noticed that Human Friend, Areeb, seemed to possess a far superior intellect (or at least, he was more tuned into her wavelengths). So, with newfound hope, she decided to approach him.

One day, Human Friend was lounging in the garden, fiddling with his phone, when Murtasimbakri trotted over. Without hesitation, she nudged Human Friend's phone with her snout. Human Friend looked down, met her earnest gaze, and almost immediately deciphered her intentions.

"Want to talk to Meerab, huh?" he said with a knowing grin. Murtasimbakri bleated in affirmation. Human Friend, being the quick thinker he was, dialed Human Mom's number.

The screen lit up, and there was Human Mom, trapped inside the phone once more! Oh, how Murtasimbakri had missed that smile. Was it just her, or did Human Mom look even more radiant than she remembered? She made a series of affectionate noises at the phone, trying to convey a universe of emotions.

"Hello, Murtasimbakri," Human Mom's voice rang out, melodious as ever. "I've missed you so much."

Murtasimbakri's heart swelled with emotion. She edged closer to the phone, trying her best to nuzzle Human Mom through the screen. If only she could hug her, tell her how much she missed her, and perhaps also inform her of Human Dad's, ahem, ineptitudes.

"I wish you were here," Human Mom continued, her eyes glistening. "I miss the way you'd jump around and your incessant attempts to communicate with us."

Human Friend, always the voice of reason, chimed in, "She misses you... they both do. Although he won't admit it." He shot a glance in the direction of the house, where Human Dad was presumably brooding.

Murtasimbakri let out an assertive baah, nodding fervently. Yes, she wholeheartedly agreed: Human Dad was beyond help. But maybe, just maybe, with allies like Human Friend and her unyielding spirit, they could bridge the chasm between Human Mom and Dad, and stop her from being a child of divorced parents.

-------------------------------------------

In the realm of her little goat heart, Murtasimbakri had been nursing a feeling akin to sorrow. The symphony of baahs had been tinged with melancholy of late, for it had been an age since the magical device had brought the sound of Human Mom's voice into her ears.

Therefore, when the vibrations of conversation brushed against her senses, ears perked up in alert, drawing her attention. Human Friend was in deep discourse with Human Dad. The air thrummed with the tension of their words, and in the cadence of their conversation, she heard it - the name that sent ripples of warmth through her.

However, the unfolding exchange cast shadows of confusion and dismay upon Murtasimbakri's heart. Human Dad spoke words of denial, erecting walls of 'realism' around the fortress of his heart, while Human Friend insisted upon acknowledgment and acceptance.

As the words flitted through the air, painting a picture of turmoil and longing, Murtasimbakri felt a chill of apprehension. Were Human Dad and Human Mom on the brink of separation? Was the land of cellphones holding Human Mom captive, creating chasms unbridgeable and distances insurmountable?

Distress gripped Murtasimbakri's heart, squeezing with the intensity of her fears and anxieties. She couldn't fathom a life devoid of either, for both were integral to her world, illuminating her days with their presence and love. With teary eyes and a heart heavy with trepidation, she nudged Human Dad, seeking answers in the depths of his eyes, imploring him to acknowledge the truth that was apparent to all.

For in the dance of gazes and the symphony of heartbeats, Murtasimbakri had witnessed it - the blossoming of love, tender and strong, resilient and gentle. Human Dad bore the signature 'swoony eyes', a condition that rendered many a female sheep at the farm utterly enchanted. However, those eyes only assumed that dreamy, far-off look in the presence of one - Human Mom.

Thus, with determination fuelling her actions, Murtasimbakri decided upon a course of action. With swift agility, she reached for Human Dad's cellphone, the magical device that held the gateway to Human Mom, and took off.

For in her goatish wisdom, Murtasimbakri knew. Human Mom had to return, had to be drawn back before Human Dad committed acts irrevocable and foolish under the guise of 'realism'. With the device secure, she set forth on her mission, a tiny guardian of love, embarking upon a quest to reunite hearts destined to beat in unison.

She didn't understand why everyone was chasing her though.

Maybe they finally wanted to play.

-------------------------------------------

A/N: Sooooo, what do we think? I thought we needed a little goat POV! What was your favourite part? :)