*Chesterfield P.*
Tierra sat with her face in her hands, sobbing. She had just discovered the circus wagon owned by her family, which was strange, since her parents had died over a dozen years ago, and hundreds of miles away. What was the wagon doing here, on the plains?
"Lady, don't cry. Jeez, stop crying, wouldja? If I had hands I'd give you a hanky. If I had a hanky, that is."
"What?" Startled at the gruff voice, Tierra jerked and looked around wildly.
"Whoah now! A bit high strung, aren'tcha, lady," said the bull looming over her. "What's wrong? You can tell old Chesterfield."
Tierra wiped her eyes and stood. "I'm not high strung, I'm in shock!" she cried. "This wagon was my home, but I haven't seen it since I was eight years old. I have no idea why it's here now, or why I found it, but..." She moved out of the bull's shadow and address him squarely, a green flash coming into her eyes. "It's mine by right and name, and I mean to take it!"
The bull looked dumbfounded for a moment, but the expression quickly melted back into bovine serenity. "Well then," he said softly, "you'll need some help moving it, if that's your aim. I'd be pleased to help you. I am a bull, after all, and a tough one at that." At this the sound of suppressed laughter floated around the side of the wagon. "Well I am!" proclaimed the bull.
From around the side of the wagon came another snicker, and then the prettiest cow Tierra had ever seen came sauntering into view.
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