Only one way to find out. Head home. You're expected there anyway. You weren't that successful on your research either way. Sure, plenty articles exist on how to milk a cow. What there wasn't was a single article on was how to properly milk a cow-person. The light ahead of you turns yellow. You grip the wheel in slight frustration. Well, it'll probably be close enough if not the same. You stare blankly at the red light. A lot of those articles said cows only produce milk when they're pregnant. Is that the same for cow-people? Honestly you thought cows just did that as a species. A horn flares up behind you. It's green. You grip the wheel tighter and speed through the left turn. All right, that's enough distraction. Focus on driving, or you'll have a bigger farm to come home to. You briefly give a wry smile, before frowning at the implication you just made.
You turn right and see the entrance to your apartment complex. It's not farmland-- as far as you can tell. That makes sense. A home for you and dozens of other people isn't suddenly a flat and expansive field for crops and livestock. You pull into your usual parking space. Before you slam the car door, you grab the binoculars. No point in leaving them. They'd probably melt, or maybe be stolen. Well-- they're cheap looking-- so definitely melt. Still, they're powerful. You climb the flight of concrete stairs to your second floor apartment. You look at the parking lot from above. You can see every car. You don't see that pickup those two cows drove off in. They should be here since they left way before you. You turn your doorknob. It was unlocked for sure. Someone else is here.
The door creaks as you open it. You see no one, but you do hear them. The kitchen. You step inside, slowly. You creak the door shut behind you. The noise from the kitchen stops at this. Nothing of yours is out of the ordinary. No things that you would consider 'cow-related' are here. It's just like you left it an hour ago. More noise from the kitchen, but quieter. They know you're here now so you pick up the pace. It's more of a kitchenette and there's only one entrance so you head that way. You round the corner head first, curious if you'll see the pair of cows from before.
"Oh fuck!" Not your words, but they might as well have been. You jump back. An inch from your face was the back side of one your pans. You bring a hand up to where it would've smacked you and look at who would've done the deed. It's your sister.
"Holy fuck," she shouts again, "did you have to stick your head around the corner like a maniac after opening the door like that?!"
"What did you expect? It's my apartment!" You're suddenly indignant, hand on cheek.
"Yeah, and I thought you would walk in like it was, not like it wasn't!" She's just as indignant.
"What are you doing here?" You hold out the hand that was rubbing your cheek at her.
"What are YOU doing here?" She flips it, pointing, "why aren't you at the farm? It's bit early to be finished with work on a week day."
"Farm? What are you talking about-- this is MY apartment. I can come and go as I please. Again, why are you here?"
"If you didn't want me to drop by anytime, you shouldn't have told me that and given me a key!" You groan. You and your sister were close friends. You had given her a copy of your key just in case she was in trouble. Most of the time you get along. You let yourself calm down for a brief moment. She seems to do the same as the pan clatters on the counter. She mentioned a farm. You need to know more.
"Where are the cows?" You give one last rub across your face with your free hand. You're not sure she would even know what you're talking about.
"Uh," -- she seemed confused-- "they're at the farm, I would assume. Did you send them over here?"
"I thought I did," you admit after a few seconds, "I guess not." So she does know, which makes sense since she mentioned the farm.
"They're not ones to ignore you like that. Is everything okay?"
"Uh, well--" her sudden serious tone threw you, "I ran one of them over in my car."
"What?" She gasps, "are they hurt at all?"
"N-no," you grip the binoculars in both hands, "she said she wasn't injured." That was a bad answer earlier.
"Where did it happen, at the farm?"
"At the store, we had gone in separate vehicles." You see her frown and look down at your hands, still gripping the binoculars.
"You didn't get any groceries-- oh yeah it's grocery day!" At least you don't have to explain why you came home instead of this farm she was talking about now-- "why did you get a pair of binoculars?"
"The farm." A quick answer. Your sister scrunches her face at you. Crap. She extends her hand, clearly wanting to look at it. You don't respond.
You watch her roll her eyes before moving suddenly. One of the deepest pangs of adrenaline you've ever had hits you. She has the binoculars-- snatched them right out of your hands. You jump back around the corner. You suppose you have a greater flight than fight response. All you know is you don't want to be on the receiving end. It really is like a gun.
"What the heck are you doing?" Your sister says flatly around the corner, completely unaware of what she has. Your hearts racing.
"They're special binoculars." You say simply. That's not enough of a reason. "You're not supposed to look at people through them." That isn't enough of a reason either, dammit. You're out of ideas-- your heart beating is making it difficult. It's quiet for a few seconds. Then you hear your sister.