The realization hit gradually, the way most practical problems did once the shock of Ignis and Alyanna and the newly merged land had finally settled into something manageable.
"Wait," Aunt Mary said, glancing around the reshaped fields with a expression shifting from wonder into something more pointed. "The cows. Has anyone milked the cows?"
Silence answered her.
"Penny," Erik said slowly, "when's the last time anyone checked on the animals?"
Penelope's stomach dropped. "It's been... a while. Between the flooding, the ambush, Persephone showing up, Killian's contract—" She trailed off, already turning toward the distant pasture where a small herd of cows grazed placidly, entirely unbothered by weeks of apparent neglect. "Oh no."
"Oh no is right," Aunt Lucy said, already moving with surprising speed for a woman who usually took her time about most things. "Cows need milking twice a day, minimum. If nobody's been doing it—"
