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Halia is riding high after completing the task that Rhannah had given her. It seems that the whole Mistress/Pet situation is going to go off better than she had expected. The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. The cows do their jobs, and Halia helps out as she had on any other day at the 'office.'

Of course, the horse is busy wondering just what prize her mistress had in mind for her the whole time. Keeping herself busy doesn't allow her much time to actually speculate. It also allows her to make the day go by with relative quickness.

Once the two return to the car, Halia cannot help but just blurt out. "So, what do I win?"

"Hm...?" Rhannah asks, quirking an eyebrow as she pulls out of the lot. "What do you mean?"

Halia frowns.

A slight smirk spreads on Rhannah's face, which brings a strange swelling within Halia's heart. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear."

Those words deflate that anticipation.

"You did so well, but you still lost."

"What!?"

"You remember the rules, right?"

"Of course I do," Halia responds. "You said you would punish me if I failed, and all I had to do was get them in their seats within the time limit."

"Without saying a word," Rhannah interrupts. "And, when I told you that you had fourteen minutes on your clock, you said, and I quote 'Fucking shit."

"You can't be serious!" The horse's shoulders droop. "You're going to punish me for that!? "That's not fair!" Halia shouts, her jaw popping from the stress. She turns away, pushing her prosthetic back in place but not looking towards her mistress. "This... this game is..."

"Too much?" Rhannah stops the car. "You know what to say if so."

Halia rubs her chin, sitting back and unbuckling her seatbelt. "No, I'm good," the horse says. "I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" Rhannah says, gripping the wheel tighter. "It isn't... too much?"

Halia holds onto her belt for a moment before letting go and getting out of the car. "Yeah... I'm fine. So, what's the punishment tonight?"

Rhannah sighs, clutching her chest a moment before she gets out of her car. "Well, I figure you can do your chores tonight without wearing a stitch.

"A topless maid service, huh? I can handle that. Just... give me some time to decompress first."

"That's fine by me, "Rhannah says, unlocking the door to their home and letting the horse inside.

Halia heads immediately off to the bathroom. There, she takes a deep breath, her eyes closed, and grabs her top, lifting it up over her head.

It isn't too much longer before she's stepped out of everything. She grasps the sink and opens her eyes.

The face that greets her back is the one that she sees all the time when she looks at the mirror, but not the one she's always seen. She champs in front of the view--those teeth are all so perfect, all so artificial. Medical science makes it impossible to distinguish from the real thing, but she can. And her arms and her legs, all exposed, with the scars still there.

"Why the fuck are you doing this?" she asks the horse looking at her. "Why are you letting her do this to you?"

She sits and waits. For what? A response from the mirror? She relaxes her shoulders, rolling them, stretching out the stress building up. The pain throbs where her false joints meet her real flesh, and yet, she heads to the door, completely nude..

Gripping the knob, she thinks about the numbness, the lack of feeling in the parts of her that aren't real, and she notices the beating of her heart speeding up. She clutches her chest, a tingle of sensitivity over her body where her fingers tread.

She steps outside, finding Rhannah sitting in the living room in baggy clothing, looking up from a book.

The cow places her book down and nods. "So, how does it feel?"

Halia holds her arms out and spins around in place. "This what you wanted, mistress? She speaks in a flat tone, deferring to the bovine boss. "To see me, scars and all?"

Rhannah shrugs. "Oh, Halia. I've seen your scars already. But the question is, why does that matter?"

"I'm going to get us some dinner ready or something," Halia says, walking off towards the kitchen.

"Don't forget an apron, or you might hurt yourself."

"I'm not afraid of pain," Halia says, but she looks through the pantry to find one of the aprons. Against bare skin, the fabric feels alien, and yet, not bad at all. "What do you want."

"Surprise me," Rhannah says. "You're good at that."

Halia snorts, opening the refrigerator. Her tail twitches as she feels the coolness upon herself.

Rhannah taps her cheek, biting her lip. "I see, but what about that question I asked earlier? You have all the right to tell me to back off for tricking you earlier today, and yet, you didn't."

Halia kicks the door closed and places her collected ingredients on the counter. She picks up a knife, examining the blade for sharpness. "There's really a simple explanation for it. I let you mess with me."

"Oh?" Rhannah says, pushing herself up, walking up towards the horse with the sharp implement, chopping at onions with speed and precision, walking up behind her, basically looming over her. "And why is that?"

Halia sniffs, cracking a gentle smirk. "Oh, well, what else are you going to do to me? Make my life worse than it already was?"

"I could certainly try if that's what you want, but I'd rather we continue to have our little teasing fun. After all... I know full well you wouldn't let me do things to you unless you wanted me to. You're stronger than that, Halia. In fact..." She places a paper on the counter. "Here's some proof."

Halia puts down the knife, staring for a moment at the paper laid there. She doesn't grasp it, not at first, but the silence between her and Rhannah is enough for her to finally snatch it up. She scans over it and then reads it repeatedly before she spins around, waving the letter in Rhannah's face. "What the hell is this?" Halia asks. "Some kind of joke? A manipulation tactic?"