Clover stepped past the wooden fence and followed a blue butterfly into the tall grass. Her ears perked up. She grinned.
The butterfly fluttered higher, past the sunflower rows. Clover trotted after it. She nudged a bright yellow head and petals brushed her nose.
The sky began to blush orange. The butterfly vanished behind a cloud. Her ears flattened. She called out.
A familiar low echoed from the farm. Her ears perked up. That was her mother calling.
A familiar moo rumbled across the prairie. She bolted toward the sound, tail swishing.
Her hooves drummed against the path. The barn's warm light glowed ahead.
Clover slipped into the soft straw beside her mother. She nuzzled the rough fleece.
The barn creaked gently above them. Clover rested beside her mother as the sky darkened.