Page 93 of Tiger's Trek
“What is it?” Danik asked. “Do they have fangs? Is their wool poisonous?”
“No. Nothing like that. They are, er... well, they’re naked.”
“Naked?” Veru said.
“Yes. So you see, there isn’t anything for you to shear.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“It’s very rare. Supposedly, they come into their wool under just the right conditions, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Do you know the conditions?”
“No one does. Not even my mistress. I was tasked with guarding them and given every tool at my disposal to, shall we say, encourage the growth. But so far, nothing’s worked.”
“I see,” said Veru. “Well, this is quite the embranglement, isn’t it?” She sighed. “Is the way far?”
“It is. The sheep reside in a hidden forest, but my brother said he gave you his mirror...”
“He did. I would just like to consult one of our local sheep farmers before setting out, if that’s agreeable to you.”
“Very well. When you are ready to attempt your task, simply tell the mirror you wish to find the hidden forest guarded by the Polden Knight.”
“Polden. Is that your name?” Veru asked.
“For now, it suffices.”
“Then we’ll seek you out soon.”
The knight departed, and Veru and Danik set out to find the sheep farmer Veru had met before. He indeed proved a fount of wisdom and appeared to know much about the very sheep she mentioned.
“Special ones, them are,” he said. “Need ta be fed on the hair of virgins.”
“What?” Veru replied, gasping.
“That’s right. Supplemented with flowers if you want the wool to grow out colored special. Otherwise, it grows the same color as the girl’s hair—black, white, gray, blond, you get the idea. Mind, they’re voracious eaters. They prefer it fresh. Fall asleep next to one and ya might find they’ve eaten off your very scalp!” He visibly shivered. Then he whispered to Danik, “I once heard a one young lad as had a lambkin. Loved it like his own babe. Fed it from a bottle. Then, one night, it came inta its teeth and began nudgin’ the boy at his ankles. He was a hairy one, the lad. Took after ’is da. Wouldn’t ya know, the lamb licked the fine hairs clean offen his legs, even up to ’is nethers. Some say it even nicked ’is wee kolbasa.”
Danik straightened and his entire face turned red, while Veru tried her best to smother a snort. The short farmer turned to her. “Poor boy’s legs were ever after as smooth as a babe’s popka. But I says he was fortunate. Even a virgin girl with hair down to her feet ain’t enough ta satisfy one of them adult bugger bears.”
Veru cleared her throat. “Okay, so flowers and hair. Is there anything else we need to know?”
Danik managed to find his voice and asked, “Anything special about the shearing?”
“Naw, nothing special. Oh! Except once they eat, their wool grows immediate like. Ya have ta shear them before the full moon appears; otherwise, it all falls out and you need ta start over again.”
“But if they need hair to grow wool, what do they eat in the meantime?” Veru asked. “How do they stay alive?”
“Same as every other flock of sheep. They eat grass, clover, hay, that sort of thing. They just can’t produce wool.”
“It’s strange,” Veru said. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to go to so much trouble.”
“I’ll tell ya why. If ya can manage ta weave the wool—and mind, it’s near as an impossible a task as gettin’ the beasties ta grow it in the first place—the fabric is the finest, strongest, and most beautiful you’ve ever seen.”
“Better than the silks of the Orient?” she asked.
“Better than dragon silk. Better even than phoenix leather.”
Danik raised his eyebrows and gave Veru a look. “How, um... how is it different?” he asked.
