Isidoro Asks for Help

It was madness. What had been a warm, lazy afternoon had quickly turned into utter chaos. Hooves stomped crops, a cacophony of bleats and huffs filled the air, and stampeding bodies destroyed once-perfect fences. The once serene grove was now a circus of panicking animals and stressed farmers.

The funniest thing to retell from that day would be the reason why the herd had panicked in the first place: a pie.

That was correct. The herd’s farmer— a stout, rodent creature by the name of Isidoro— had baked a large pie that he intended to share with the herd. However, in the excitement of his surprise, he overlooked a knot of grass that had overgrown due to the recent rainfall, and tripped.

The pie had been fine at first, but the platter had hit a nearby rock, and the noise had alerted the herd. The herd, being the bunch of gentle but not very intellectual animals they were, was sure the noise meant imminent danger. Now Isidoro was without a pie, without a surprise to give, and with a herd of frenzied animals.

It had been this madness that had interrupted Sonmi’s otherwise tranquil morning. As usual, Sonmi had been visiting Mirësi Grove for an early breakfast and a dawn well spent with meditation. Now that she was looking for a midday snack, however, the cries and yells coming from the nearby farm had alarmed her that something was wrong.

It was not a pie and a clumsy farmer what she had been expecting, but she was glad that it had been nothing more. When Isidoro spotted her, the poor creature’s worries began pouring out of his eyes.

“Oh Sonmi! Sonmi please help, I have not the strength to calm the herd!” He said between sobs, his little paws holding one of the Koinos’s hooves in desperation. “You’re a strong one, please bring them down from their chaos before they destroy what’s left of the meadow and reach for the grove!”

Sonmi wasn’t sure about it. She was strong, sure, in the sense that Koinos were on the stronger side of the creatures in Kósmos; but she was hardly a fighter, and she wasn’t the kind to even know how to use force against others.

She shook her head at Isidoro gently, and took her hoof off his paws.

“P-please! I’m not fast enough to look for help, you’re the only one I’ve seen around today!” The poor farmer scrambled for words. “Your birdsong!” He let out with a new shine in his eyes. “I’ve heard your birdsong while you meditate in the grove before; that ought to calm them!”

Sonmi blinked perplexedly; she hadn’t expected others to be close enough to listen. Or to sing loud enough.

Sonmi wasn’t one who talked much, or interacted for that matter. She sang for and by herself, and for the occasional bird or frog that passed by. The idea of using her birdsong to calm an entire group of animals was far from appealing. Still, she looked from Isidoro’s pleading eyes to the terrified ones of the running animals. She gave a defeated sigh, and nodded to Isidoro before lowering herself so that he could climb to her back.

Once Isidoro clung his little paws to large tufts of Sonmi’s thick mane, the black-lavender Koinos unfurled her heavy wings, and took off with little sound.

From above, the farmer and the Koinos could see the herd plainly; they were stampeding around, but tended to go in a messy circle, startling one another into the same directions instead of fully breaking the fences that held them in place.

“There! That’s Lana, the oldest one. If you manage to calm her, the rest should notice and follow suit.” Isidoro explained while pointing a delicate claw at a mature sheep; although still lively, Lana showed signs of being older than the rest. Sonmi changed course to follow Lana, careful not to fly too low to give the herd another reason to panic.

Once they were close enough, Sonmi flew lower and more slowly, cornering Lana gently while Isidoro made sure to grab her attention with a sweet voice the sheep recognized. When Lana had calmed down a bit, Sonmi began her birdsong.

Birdsongs were usually shared between Eláfkeria as a social ritual or form of bonding, and sometimes as entertainment between Eláfkeria and other Kósmos dwellers. But Sonmi didn’t do either, she only sang when she was in the comfort of her solitude. Still, she set aside her discomfort and began.

It was a gentle whistle, one that mimicked in a far more artistic way the whistling of the breezes that coursed through Mirësi Grove every morning. It was an elaborate yet simple and serene tune that would surely lull anyone with working ears to sleep, and that it did. In no time, Lana was once again a peaceful creature looking for a safe spot to nap in. The nearby animals that had heard the song had found peace as well, and were one by one showing the others that danger was no more.

After a minute of gentle music, the herd was at ease. Sonmi landed near a patch of wildflowers, and let Isidoro climb off to the safety of his farm.

“Thank you Sonmi, that was a delight.” He let out with a visible relaxation in his voice. “You didn’t just calm them down, you readied them for an afternoon nap!” He giggled, and Sonmi couldn’t help but smile.

Before she was able to take off again, Isidoro stopped her with a once again nervous ‘oh no, the pie!’

The little farmer ran to the middle of the corral, where a mash of warm dough, blueberry jam, and dirt lay on the freshly stomped grass. “The pie, oh it’s ruined…” Lana slowly approached the rodent, nudging his cheek with a gentle nose to comfort him. He gave the sheep a stroke to the muzzle, and wiped a tear with his poncho before standing back up, paws full of what smelled like what had been a delicious pie. Sonmi looked at him with empathy.

“It’s alright… I-I still have enough ingredients to make a second one…” he cleaned his paws in the well. “Oh! Would you like to stay for an hour? If I get started now, I should be able to thank you with a warm pie.” He stared at the Koinos nervously.

Sonmi didn’t have anything planned for that day, so she nodded after thinking about it for a second. She had already sung the entire herd to sleep, she didn’t see how helping make a pie would be any worse. At the nod, Isidoro gasped in excitement, and led her inside the farmhouse, a newfound joy in his step.