A Gentle Bleat

I nudged open the curtain and stepped onto the sunlit windowsill. The painted wood was already warm beneath my hooves. Thinking about what you said, I paused, lifted my chin, and tried out a tiny sound. 'Baa.' It came out as a soft, airy hum. Right beside my nose, a stray dandelion seed stirred from the small puff of air, twirling once across the sill before coming to rest against the latch. I let out another quiet bleat to see if it would dance again, perfectly happy with my gentle sheep voice.