The crows, after about five minutes of flying and prodding, finally led our Turkey into yet another large clearing. This clearing was different than the previous one with the brook though. In the last one, there was immense shading due to the trees, which provided much comfort to the three. However, in this new clearing, there was no cover, just bright sunlight that made Turkey wince in pain.

“Are you coming or not?” the childish voice of Bartleby rang a bit farther out. Only a small glitter on the ground betrayed his location, which the crows knew to be his golden hooves sparkling in the sun. Turkey didn’t move though, he was far too busy examining the upward sky for birds to notice even his new Master’s voice.

Debit and Credit, feeling the discomfort of the beating sun on their backs and usually easily irked to begin with, each grabbed one of Turkey’s ears and dragged him to a small abandoned shed that sat in the middle of the clearing.

Bartleby had already fearlessly walked in when they got there, and the crows, too hot to really care, immediately flew in without bothering with Turkey. He wouldn’t have gone in anyway, the sight of the little run-down building made him paw the ground in fear. The smell of it was strange and irregular, as if it was trying to be several things at once… Smoke… leather… cologne… Of course Turkey didn’t know the names of these things, but even at his low intelligence, he knew that they meant danger by instinct.

On the other hand, his three friends had just walked in without a care. Did this mean it was safe? Turkey didn’t know… Very reluctantly, with his tail between his legs, he slowly walked in.

The shed was quite empty. It was really just a shell of a building, but to the animals, it was a shield from the hot sun. Turkey felt at ease almost immediately as a cool bit of air rushed at him. Bartleby was lying down in the far corner of the room, while the two crows perched themselves on the top frame. Bartleby lazily turned his eyes over to Turkey and giggled a little. “Don’t be so cautious, they haven’t been here in a while.” He mumbled softly. Turkey didn’t know that Bartleby meant by ‘they’ but nodded his head regardless. Bartleby smiled and shifted his position a little. “Come over here, my little Turkey.” Turkey obediently totted over and sat himself down beside the little fawn.

“This is my home, Turkey. If you are to be mine, then you are to live here as well. It’s nice, isn’t it? Even my crows like it, and they usually hate everything I give them.” Bartleby looked over and licked Turkey’s cheek. “I think I know what I’ll use you for now….” He murmured. “You can’t go off on your own… and I can’t have my crows following you everywhere. They have their own stuff to do. So I’m going to make you my cleaner.” Bartleby’s red eyes shone even in the shed at his new idea. “You’ll keep my home clean, and I’ll have you wash my coat and hooves daily. I don’t want to do it myself.” He slowly lowered his head down, closed his eyes, and mumbled “Yes… you’ll make a good cleaner…” before falling asleep. Turkey, oblivious to the drastic change of lifestyle he was to face, turned over and nuzzled against the little fawn’s side…. As he often did with his own mother.

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I'm starting to feel a bit of a soft spot for Bartleby... Hm...