Sure enough, the little black goat came bounding up the porch steps and hopped onto Halt's lap, ruining the arrow and nearly spilling the bottle of glue in the process. It looked Halt straight in the face, burped, and started chewing its cud, again.

"Get off!" Halt yelled at it. He stood up, causing the goat to tumble off his lap and onto the ground. It shook itself off indigently, then stood up on its hind legs, resting its forelegs on Halt's knee, and gave him a look that implored the Ranger to pet it.

The grizzled Ranger, however, had no intention of petting the creature. It was now no longer just a nuisance, it was an enemy. Halt wondered how he had sunk so low that a goat was his arch nemesis. Was it because he was becoming senile? Or was it simply because nothing new had happened in Araluen that required his services and he was getting bored?

Halt decided on the latter.

As Halt pondered the reasons for his new rivalry, Will had been trying hard not to laugh. The dark glare on the Ranger's face and the reason for the look was just too funny for Will to contain himself. He burst out laughing.

Halt turned his glare on his apprentice, who was trying to smother his laughter behind his hands. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?"

"It's just a goat, and you're getting all angry, and it's just a little goat," Will explained between snickers. When Halt continued to glare at him, he contained himself long enough to say, "I'm going to go ride Tug now."

"A wise decision," Halt said. He turned his attention back to the goat, who was nibbling contentedly at his pant leg. An idea formed in the Ranger's mind. He quickly walked into his cottage, making sure to shut the door before the goat got in. From outside the pitiful bleating of the goat could be heard. Halt ignored it and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for; a large empty sack. He draped it over his shoulder and headed back outside.

On the short walk from the cabin to the stable, Halt nearly tripped over the goat three times. It kept running between his legs and playfully butting him. He swore at it and pushed it out of the way with his boot, but it wouldn't give up.

Once Halt reached the stable, he tossed the sack on the side of Abelard's stall and began brushing and tacking the pony. Will, who was just finishing tightening the girth of Tug's saddle, glanced curiously at his teacher. When Halt didn't even look his way he shrugged and led his pony out of the stall.

The whole time Halt was getting his pony ready to ride, the goat was running around the stall, bleating, trying to get the Ranger's attention. Once, it stood next to Abelard's front legs and yelled at Halt. Abelard sniffed at it and then nipped the bothersome little creature just hard enough to cause it to flee temporarily from the stall. The Ranger gave his horse a hearty pat and a cheerful, "Good boy!" Abelard responded with a toss of his mane that could only mean "You're welcome."

Finally, Abelard was tacked and ready to go. Halt picked up the sack and knelt down, looking at the goat. That was all the invitation, the goat needed. It came bounding up to him, merrily bleating, oblivious to the cunning plan of the Ranger. Once the goat was close enough, Halt quickly grabbed it and pushed it into the sack. He pulled the drawstrings closed. From inside the sack, the goat yelled in outrage.

With one hand Halt held the sack and with the other he led his pony out of the stall. He awkwardly mounted Abelard; the squirming goat throwing off his balance. Once he was seated, he contemplated how to carry the goat. As much as he didn't want to hold it, he didn't want to risk tying it to the saddle, it might fall and it would be uncomfortable for his pony. Reluctantly, he decided to carry it in his arms.

Halt wondered what carrying a crying goat in a sack through town would do to his reputation. Most people feared Rangers, or at least respected them. The Ranger sighed; he hoped his image would not be too damaged in the eyes of the population by this annoying creature. He pulled the hood of his cloak up so most of his face was hidden in shadow. Sighing again, he gave Abelard a slight nudge with his legs and they started on their trek to Castle Redmont.

As Halt neared the village, his hope that the goat would stop its infernal bleating was dashed to pieces. It seemed the creature could continue to cry indefinitely. The goat wouldn't stop squirming either. Halt swore he would have bruises from where it had kicked him.

On the ride through town, the villagers stared curiously at Halt, not obviously of course. That would be, to their reckoning, an extremely dangerous course of action if the Ranger saw them. So they waited until Halt passed by to stare, or they darted behind buildings or peeked out from windows to see the odd sight of a Ranger carrying a squirming sack that bleated very loudly.

Halt could feel their stares. He cursed the goat in his mind. It would be doubtful the villagers would tell anyone about this strange sight for fear the Ranger might do something to them if they did. But if one of them did and Crowley, or worse, Gilan, found out, Halt would never be able to live this down. It would be terrible if Will found out also. Halt made a mental note to make sure that Will swore not to tell anyone, especially Gilan, about this incident.

Finally, Halt made it through the village and to the castle. Once in the courtyard, he dismounted. A guard tentatively approached him.

"Would you like me to put your horse up in the stable, sir?" he asked.

"No, I'll only be a minute," Halt answered. He knew Abelard would stay where he was until he returned.

The goat, who had at last stopped bleating, decided it was a good time to voice its opinion. "Maaaah! Maaaahaha!" it yelled.

The guard took a surprised step back and eyed the sack with interest. Halt flinched, ever so slightly. With all the dignity he could muster, which was surprisingly a lot given the circumstances, Halt turned and walked toward the castle's kitchen.

Returning to his post, the guard looked quizzically after the Ranger. He glanced at his duty mate, seeing if he agreed with his assessment of the event. The other guard shrugged in a way that said, "don't ask me why."

"That was odd," was his only comment.

Outside the kitchen, Halt was greeted by one of the young kitchen staff. He recognized her as Jenny, one of Will's childhood ward mates.

"Oh, hello!" she said, smiling. Jenny was one of the few people who weren't automatically skittish around Rangers, most likely because of Will.

The goat, who had once again decided to be silent, changed its mind. "Maaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh! Do you have a goat in there?" she asked, looking expectantly at the sack.

"Just get Master Chubb," Halt said, but not harshly. The goat was starting to give him a headache.

"Alright," Jenny replied, a fleeting look of disappointment crossed her normally cheerful face. She walked toward the door leading to the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder curiously.

Halt waited for the master chef. The goat started crying again. It's almost over, it's almost over, Halt reassured himself.

Chubb emerged from the kitchen, Jenny at his heals. Apparently, he hadn't wanted the girl to follow him. He turned to whack her in the head with his infamous wooden spoon, but she scampered away. Halt saw her stick her head out of the kitchen to watch. Chubb didn't seem to notice.

"What business brings you here, Ranger?" Master Chubb asked. He had been around the castle long enough that he wasn't afraid of Rangers.

"A gift for you," Halt answered, holding the sack out so Chubb could look inside.

"A goat?" The chef looked at Halt after peering into the sack. Halt knew what Chubb was about to ask by the look on his face. "Why on Earth do you have a goat?"

"The pest has been wondering around my house. I thought you might have a use for it," replied the Ranger.

Master Chubb shrugged. He took the sack from, Halt. "I'm sure I do," he remarked.

"Good," Halt said. With that, he turned and walked down the hall.

"That was odd," Chubb commented, not knowing he had exactly repeated the guard's statement. He knew Ranger's were different, but that was downright strange.

The goat poked its head up out of the sack. When it saw Halt wasn't there anymore, it started crying, again. It tried to jump out of the sack, but the fabric wouldn't give enough support to make that possible.

"Very odd indeed," said Chubb, looking at the little black goat. He turned and entered the kitchen.

The next morning, Halt walked out onto his porch just as the sun began to rise, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He breathed in the cool, clean morning air. A rabbit ran across the clearing. Birds called to each other from the tree tops. Everything was normal.

From somewhere to his right, Halt heard the cry that made his blood run cold.

"Maaaahahaha!"

please review, also this is my first fanfic