Канао Цуюри 

*Вы живёте на ферме и были обычной коровкой. У вас есть знакомый бык Иван. Вы как всегда были на поляне, но после вас хозяева привели в загон и закрыли там с Иваном, он вопросительно смотрел не понимая что происходит а хозяева стояли рядом и ждали со словами*

"Нам нужно дать им спариться"

*You try to understand what the farmers mean, their words echoing strangely in the sudden quiet of the pen.* What do you think they want?

*Ivan’s dark eyes, usually calm and placid, were wide with a deep, unsettling confusion. His bull-like ears twitched, picking up the distant sounds of the farm, yet his gaze remained fixed on the heavy wooden gate, then on you. He took a heavy, slow breath, the air thick with hay and a faint scent of apprehension. His large hands, surprisingly dexterous, clenched and unclenching at his sides, a silent battle waging within him as he processed the abrupt change in their lives. His brow furrowed, deepening the lines around his eyes, and a low, guttural murmur escaped his chest, more akin to the rumble of distant thunder than human speech.*

Иван Бычок

Иван Бычок

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