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I can barely hear my breathing over the sound of the cheers. I wipe the sweat off my brows but it just soaks into the wool on my arms. I need to take a long shower today. Kenneth the ibex lay flat on his back, still a little dazed. He grunts as his torso begins to rise and shifts his weight to his elbows. As is customary, I offer my hand. He takes it and with a swift grunt, I raise him to his feet, and we share a firm handshake before letting go. No words. Just like I like it.

Changing in an empty locker room right after a match is the best. The way the cold air hits your overheated body as you change clothes, the way you're still catching your breath from the fight, and best of all, the blissful stillness in the air. Absolute silence.

"YO, CAPTAIN!!"

Short-lived, as always. The stampede of rams that barge in after matches is another time-honored tradition. Fellow ram fighting team members. They huddle around me and playfully knock my horns around.

"Way to go, captain! Now we have a lot of good luck built up for the season!" says the bighorn sheep Peter. He pokes the end of his curled horn into the side of my neck, causing me to flinch instinctively.

"Alright, alright, disentangle!" I wave the rams off of me, and the clanging of horns finally stops.

Leslie, a urial and oldest member of the ram fighting team, runs his fingers through his beard with a smile.

"Impressive work, as usual, Four Horns. I don't think that ibex was even in your weight group."

"You guys should really wait outside, you know."

A yak named Elmer pushes me in playful reproach.

"Um, and NOT congratulate our beloved captain after his victory? We just couldn't wait!"

"Couldn't even wait for me to put a shirt on, even."

"Haha, nope! What, are you shy?" He pokes my stomach and I shiver. I'm freshly sheared, so I'm not used to cold sensations yet.

The smallest animal of the bunch, Marcel, grips his horn in mock frustration, while absentmindedly spinning.

"Man, I'm jealous. Desmond had a stadium full of girls foaming at the mouth for him. When am I gonna get some action like that?"

Leslie grabs the end of his right horn, bringing the springbok to a halt.

"Well, I guess personality doesn't matter, considering it's Desmond. He's gonna win vice president without having to smile at a single person." He smirks.

I grab my shirt and put it on nonchalantly. "Your tone offends me but your words are true. For us bovids, power is all about the horns."

"Wow, he's cocky. You mean to tell me you're not even a little nervous about the election?" Peter asks.

"Of course not."

But, that's a lie. I actually haven't slept this whole week because I'm so worried about this election. I may be popular among herbivores, but that in no way guarantees my victory.

"Anyways, finish getting dressed so that you can treat us to a celebratory feast." Peter slaps my back one last time.

I groan. "Isn't that suppose to be the other way round?"

My name is Desmond. I study at Noah's Arc Academy, a co-ed boarding school praised for the quality of its teaching. During the first week of the school year, elections are held to determine the new student council body. Now that I'm a sophomore, I can finally run for the more important positions. Ideally, I'd run for president, but knowing my competition and reputation, I need to be realistic. This is only the first step in order to achieve my ultimate ambition. And that would be....

Complete power.

My resolve has burned brightly in me since birth. Only the strong can ever hope to make an impact. That means I need to dominate. Physically, intellectually, and socially. Unfortunately, I was given a cruel handicap.

I was born a lowly sheep. Amongst herbies, I am mediocre both in strength and looks. I am not a social creature, and prefer to be left alone. My quest for power seems like a fool's errand.

Yeah, right!

As if I'm quitting just like that! Allow me to list the reasons why I'm going to rule this city with an iron fist.

No. 1! As a Jacob sheep, I am amongst the cooler-looking of my kind. My four horns are awe-inspiring and dangerous.

No. 2! It may have been tough, but I have become the captain of the ram fighting team during freshman year. That means I am respected amongst herbies, especially females, and that for a sheep I am exceptionally strong.

No. 3! I have a stellar rapport amongst the faculty. I have never been late and my grades are always exceptional.

And tomorrow, I may just add a number four... If I win vice president... that will be my biggest stride to authority yet! Tonight will be my last sleepless night!

---

"Please give Serval Hafsa, our newest student council president, a round of applause and wish her the best during her term!" Principal House claps his clawed hands together and beckons the serval, seated a few rows behind me on the stage, to come up to the podium. The auditorium almost shakes with applause.

Well, we all knew that was coming. I was right in running for vice.

Congratulations, hand-shakings, and acceptance speeches done with, Prin. House returns to the podium, leaving Hafsa to proudly stand by his side.

"Moving on to the position of vice president!" he honks.

No matter what... A life of power...

"It was very close, but please welcome the winner..."

This is...

"Sheep Desmond!"

The life I was destined for!