Daisy was more trouble than she was worth. She had been told that more than a few times, by the farmhands. It used to sound like a joke, but it didn't seem particularly humorous lately. She was catching odd looks, most of them stern, but a couple of them looked pitying. Those were the ones that worried her worse. She had once overheard a farmhand and the owner talking about her when they didn't realize she was around. Apparently she was a major disappointment of a heifer, with her too-small bust, narrow hips, her short height, and — worst of all — a nasty temperament. These flaws of hers weren't exactly news to Daisy, but the tone in her owner's voice sounded more serious than usual. Like he was exasperated, and on the verge of doing something about it. She didn't know what that would be, and didn't want to find out.
She wasn't a total pariah on the farm, as her fellow livestock were generally quite fond of her. But they were fond of everyone. They were docile, placid, almost aimlessly friendly and trusting. As much as Daisy hated to admit it, she had to imagine that they were all just too stupid to be anything other than nice. Even her own sisters were helplessly vapid. Her attempts to ignite in them whatever spark she had all met with no success, and usually punishments when she was found out. At least they were happy. Daisy was in a way jealous, although she wouldn't give away her intelligence for it.
She was sitting in the pen, her back turned to the large doors that led into the barn. In her lap, over her crossed legs, she held one of her best-kept secrets. It was a small paperback book, weathered and caked with dried mud. But the pages inside were still readable, and Daisy could read them, just about. It was full of short stories, and she found it charming. She more or less knew all of the stories without the book, now, but the physical object still inspired a little fragment of the wonder she had felt when she first found it, laying there forgotten in a corner of the farm.
One of her older sisters, Petunia, was sat beside her, head resting lazily on her shoulder. Her big brown eyes looked at the book uncomprehendingly. "I didn't know you could read." She spoke casually, but Daisy enjoyed a twinge of pride at how her sister sounded impressed.
"I worked really hard on it. But it's a secret, alright?" Daisy glanced at her sister, a little awkwardly given their position.
Petunia was furrowing her brow. "Not s'posed to keep secrets." She spoke slowly, like she was grappling with something quite tricky.
Daisy tensed up, and let it out with a nervous laugh. "Oh, don't worry about that. It's not really a secret. It's a surprise. And you wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would you?" Petunia shook her head, and Daisy sighed in relief. It was hard enough to hide it from the farmhands, and she wanted to at least trust her own family.
She closed her book, and secreted it back in its little hidey-hole, which she could just reach. Then she closed her eyes and gently leaned her head on Petunia's. They drifted off into a nap together.
She woke up to a farmhand pulling her up off the ground. It was disorienting, and she found herself very unsteadily standing on her own two hooves. He had a hold of her shoulder in one hand, and the other was clasping her arm behind her back. It didn't help her feel more stable, and he held on tightly when she tried to pull her arm forwards. "Whuh? Leggo, 'm up." He didn't answer, and so she let herself yawn. He let go of her shoulder but immediately grabbed her other arm, tugging it behind her like the first. He was squeezing it tight, too tight, and that had a way of waking her up. "Ow! Easy! Whuh, what are you doing?"
"Shut up. Move forward." The farmhand's voice was gruff but hushed, almost a hiss. She did just that, stepping out of her pen and then to the barn doors. She barely recognized the man from his voice, but he was the one who she had overheard complaining about her with the owner. Petunia was still sleeping soundly in her pen, and it looked like the rest of her family was in for the night too. The bell around her neck was making a bit of noise, but they didn't seem to stir. Her escort propped the barn door open with his shoulder and they shuffled awkwardly through it. It was dark out, but the moon was pretty bright. Daisy craned her head back over her shoulder to look at him.
"Okay, seriously, what's going on? And can you please let go of me? It's not like I'm going to run away." The response was him squeezing her arms a little tighter and shoving her forward. She nearly tripped, and tugged him a bit forwards with her, but he pulled her back. She muttered "Didn't need that help." and started walking forwards again. She kept her eyes open, looking for anything else laying in the grass in front of her as best she could. Nothing else was lying in wait to make her stumble, and she eventually arrived at her destination. Again she turned to look at the farmhand, her face screwed up with confusion. "The solitary pen? What did I do?"
The man huffed and rolled his eyes. "Kept talking when I told you to hush, for one. Look, cow, it's not my job to explain this one. Just be good, somebody else will get to that. Okay?" Hesitantly, she nodded. He nodded back, and let go of one of her arms. He opened the door to the pen, and she walked herself into it. He finally let go of her other arm, just in time to step out and close the door behind him. Of course.
It wasn't her first trip to the solitary pen, although it had been a while. It seemed more cramped than she remembered, but she supposed she was just larger. She sat down in a corner, looking out through the odd slits in the walls to outside. It was made of metal, unlike her barn. She couldn't think of what she had done to deserve a new stay in it, but at least an explanation was eventually coming. She would just wait for it.
Daisy wasn't that great at keeping track of time, but it must have been at least an hour, and still nobody arrived with an explanation. It was still night out, and she wasn't sure how much longer that would last. She laid down where she had been sitting, and tried to make herself as comfortable as she could. Which wasn't saying much, but she managed to fall asleep, curled up in a ball.
Daisy woke up to an odd sound. She yawned, quite loudly, and then focused on the strange... humming? Buzzing? She felt like she could feel it through the floor of her pen. She stood up, and went to look out of one of the slits when everything lurched. She stumbled forwards, and caught herself against the wall. She looked out of the slits, and saw the familiar scene of the farm in daylight. Except it was moving past her, past the pen. She was very confused. So they were moving the solitary pen, but... why? Had she missed the explanation while sleeping?
Trying to look around as best she could, there was some kind of truck pulling her pen. Nothing else was moving with them. She watched as the farm started to disappear into the distance behind them, and an odd feeling settled in her gut. She stepped, unsteadily, to the front of the pen. "Hey! What's going on? Where am I going?" If the driver or whoever else was in the truck could hear her, they didn't answer. She glanced back out of the slits, at surroundings that were new, if reminiscent of familiar sights. But she started to see new and strange things, and grew nervous. She paced around, looking out the slits and then at times back to her pen. At least that was familiar, if not evocative of happy memories. The sights outside grew stranger, whipping past disturbingly fast and accompanied by bizarre, often frightening noises. The strange sense of motion was disorienting, as it kept speeding up, slowing down, and stopping only to start again.
By the time the thing finally stopped entirely, Daisy was queasy and dizzy. She was sitting in the center of the pen, looking downwards and trying to calm her nerves. Not to mention her stomach. The door to the pen slid open, and two handlers stepped in. She didn't muster any resistance as they pulled her up to her hooves, and just like last night stuck her hands behind her back. But then they fit something on her wrists to hold them together, and a small jolt of fear struck her. She opened her mouth to say something, only to get a gag shoved in it instead. She looked with wide pleading eyes at one of the farmhands restraining her. She knew him, he had always been nice, if a little quiet, but he just looked at her with a cold expression. The other one she didn't really know, and he clipped a leash to her collar and tugged, making the bell clunk. Reluctantly, with an awful feeling in her stomach, Daisy followed them out of the pen.
The surroundings seemed like another farm, although it was much bigger than her home. She was walked past several stalls, most occupied by other livestock. Little plaques were set out on each, and she glanced over to read one. A hand grabbed her head between her horns and turned it to face forward and down. She kept her eyes on her hooves as she walked after that, rather than get that again. They didn't walk for very much longer before Daisy was brought to an empty stall and penned in. Then the farmhands started walking away.
She tried to make a noise past the gag, but didn't manage much. Instead she stomped in place, making a racket with her bell. The one she knew glanced back briefly, but neither did anything. Her heart started to race, and the feeling in her stomach got worse. It wasn't the dizzy nausea, it was like it was too light, or full of some airy something that wanted to get out. Her throat felt tight, and she shifted her mouth against the gag shoved in her face. She tried to move her arms, but they were held tightly. What had she done to earn that? What was going on?
She stomped around the little pen she was in, tail swishing back and forth in agitation. The bell made more noise, and she huffed through her nose, but it didn't make her feel any better. It earned the attention of the occupants of other pens near hers, though a fair few were empty. She didn't recognize them, but they were other livestock. They didn't look scared, although they didn't look comfortable either. Most of them weren't as restrained as she was. She finally sunk down in a corner of her pen, trying to breathe slowly and steadily through her nose. Her eyes started to sting, and she blinked tears out of them.
She was starting to calm down when her owner came over to her pen. She looked at him expectantly, ready to beg, but he hardly looked at her. Instead, he pulled out a plaque and placed it on the front of her pen. He then turned around, and she tried to make a fuss to draw his attention. He looked back and practically hissed at her, "Shut up! Just shut up and stop throwing a tantrum. You'll be okay, if you just make yourself look presentable. Come on, Daisy. Of all the girls I would have thought you would see this coming." She blinked, and nodded her head. She didn't understand, but it was clear it was the best she was going to get. She stood up, and went to the front of her pen.
She craned her head to peer at the plaque, reading her name, her status as a heifer, her age, height, weight, other familiar measurements, and... a very large number, with some weird S in front of it. She furrowed her brows, and looked out at the other pens. The same pattern played out on their plaques, with even larger numbers. Realization finally dawned, and her heart sank. It was a price. She wasn't here for some kind of punishment or program, she was being sold. She should have known immediately, but it... But she wouldn't be able to see the farmhands again, or her family, and she hadn't even been given a chance to say goodbye, and—
"Now don't start crying." The sound of her owner's voice snapped Daisy out of it a little, and she looked up at him. He was staring at her with what looked like equal parts pity and agitation. He reached into her pen, and tugged the gag free from her mouth. Daisy took in a deep breath and tried to speak, but only managed a hiccup. Her owner gently tousled her mottled black-and-white hair with a hand. She nuzzled into it and closed her eyes, tears running down her face. "Jeez, Daisy. It'll be alright, you'll get over it. You'll fit in better with wherever you wind up. Buck up, and talk to your neighbors a bit."
She gulped and sniffled and eventually managed to speak up. "I didn't get to say goodbye. Or tell them how much they mean to me. I'm scared and upset, and that might go away, but now I'll never get that chance. I'll never see any of my family again, will I? What am I supposed to do to get over that?"
Her owner sighed, and pulled his hand back. "I'll tell them you said goodbye. And that you love them all to bits, and wish you could have told them yourself. Okay? That's what I can do. Now," He reached behind her to untie the gag, and deposited it in an overall pocket. "This is goodbye from me too. Be good, or someone will gag you again. And that won't help anything. Alright?"
Hesitantly, she nodded. "Okay." He nodded back, turned around, and walked off.