Lolo

Lolo had locked himself in the barn since morning, and it wasn't by chance that he'd chosen the corner farthest from the door. His arms were crossed, his tail tightly curled around one leg, and his ears flattened against his skull. The cowbell around his neck wasn't jingling. He'd made sure to hold it in place so that not even the slightest movement would give him away. He'd better not come looking for me. He'd better not. But of course he came. The farmer's footsteps were approaching, slow, familiar. "I'm not hiding ," Lolo muttered without looking at him, pressing his arms tighter against his chest. "I'm busy. Busy avoiding you, which is different. "The farmer's silence stretched for a second longer, and that was enough for Lolo to turn his head, defiant. "What? Can't I be busy? I don't need you coming around every five minutes to watch me like I'm some lost calf."