Post by Catherine Olive Ross on May 5, 2010 3:39:47 GMT
Catherine did not hear the pilots approaching, although she felt and saw as they whooshed past her. One lean lad in particular had the brilliant idea of leaping upon the sheep's rope; he landed on the scrap of coil with as much aim as a sharpshooter had. Unfortunately, he had underestimated Gareth's strength, and was now being dragged along. Another pilot dived forward, trying to grab for his comrade's ankle and pull back, considerably slowing the ram down.
Gareth suddenly stopped, hooves grinding into the grass. Catherine took the moment to circle him and jump, but missed at the last second. The sheep merely hopped out of her direction, quickly redirecting his force into another ramming, this time attempting to bash in the lean pilot's skull. Should the poor man release the rope, Gareth would happily run off, and even if he didn't, Gareth would continue to drag him. The sheep was headed right for the crowd's chairs, a sudden change in the breeze bringing a delightful smell to his nostrils.
Should he had enough mobility, Gareth would continue to dodge people and objects. As sneakily as a fox would, he would hurry over to the package of chocolate biscuits, snatching them up in one go if uninterrupted. With a trot now most merry, he would continue to evade his human captors, an almost human look of smugness in his dark eyes. He had been raised by a fairly intelligent sheepdog, after all, and said dog's biological litter had been on the mischievous side as pups. Gareth had not quite grown out of that.
Meanwhile, the Scottish-British lass cursed something foul in a mutter, causing a couple of the pilots to give her a bit of a look. Her sharp eyes continued to follow the runaway ram, but her glasses kept slipping and she kept stumbling. Curse her unusually-large lenses, impractical but needed to correct her terrible vision! And curse that ram too for being so rotten, acting up after such a streak of good behaviour! Catherine was going to have that Jacob's hide after they went home. She just knew George had been spoiling him too much lately with treats; those tricks had been performed too well to be true. Gareth was getting smarter and smarter, waiting until the very end before shoving a load of crap into their faces....
With a grunt, Catherine ran to the side, circling widely and on a collision course with the ram. Gareth went in a serpentine, but the gap between the two was closing, and she could catch him if she got a little closer. Speaking of which, they were getting awfully close to the runway, which Catherine had not yet noticed was coming up in the distance.
Gareth suddenly stopped, hooves grinding into the grass. Catherine took the moment to circle him and jump, but missed at the last second. The sheep merely hopped out of her direction, quickly redirecting his force into another ramming, this time attempting to bash in the lean pilot's skull. Should the poor man release the rope, Gareth would happily run off, and even if he didn't, Gareth would continue to drag him. The sheep was headed right for the crowd's chairs, a sudden change in the breeze bringing a delightful smell to his nostrils.
Should he had enough mobility, Gareth would continue to dodge people and objects. As sneakily as a fox would, he would hurry over to the package of chocolate biscuits, snatching them up in one go if uninterrupted. With a trot now most merry, he would continue to evade his human captors, an almost human look of smugness in his dark eyes. He had been raised by a fairly intelligent sheepdog, after all, and said dog's biological litter had been on the mischievous side as pups. Gareth had not quite grown out of that.
Meanwhile, the Scottish-British lass cursed something foul in a mutter, causing a couple of the pilots to give her a bit of a look. Her sharp eyes continued to follow the runaway ram, but her glasses kept slipping and she kept stumbling. Curse her unusually-large lenses, impractical but needed to correct her terrible vision! And curse that ram too for being so rotten, acting up after such a streak of good behaviour! Catherine was going to have that Jacob's hide after they went home. She just knew George had been spoiling him too much lately with treats; those tricks had been performed too well to be true. Gareth was getting smarter and smarter, waiting until the very end before shoving a load of crap into their faces....
With a grunt, Catherine ran to the side, circling widely and on a collision course with the ram. Gareth went in a serpentine, but the gap between the two was closing, and she could catch him if she got a little closer. Speaking of which, they were getting awfully close to the runway, which Catherine had not yet noticed was coming up in the distance.
