Silvio’s footsteps slowed as he trudged up the track towards the barn. Expecting him to unlock the door, Pepelito stood up.

'Mordedor. Destripadora,' Silvio whispered in a horrified voice, filling him with apprehension. Maribel sensed it too. She hung back rather than trotting towards the entrance in a rush to greet him. Something was terribly wrong.

'My beauties,' Silvio said as he fumbled with the barn door. It swung open after several minutes. Pepelito saw two members of Silvio's gaggle lying motionless on the dusty path to the field. The goose who had bit him, a huge, white, yellow-beaked bird, sat by Silvio with her eyes half closed, alive but unmoving. Five others hung around near the fence, looking frightened.

Pepelito and Maribel stepped forward, stood over Silvio. The old man lifted the dangerously ill goose onto his lap, cradling her.

'Degolladora,' he whispered, stroking the bird's white feathers and feeding her from his water bottle. 'Please don't go.'

Degolladora managed a hiss and flapped her wings weakly. Pepelito edged forward, rested his head on Silvio's shoulder, knowing what was happening.

'Thanks, my boy.' Silvio rubbed his hand into the fur on his neck. The farmer's fingers shook as he tried to make a call. Pepelito looked at Maribel, sad and helpless.

What could they do?

'Oh! What's up Silvio, how's he doing on the 25% dose?'

'You know him, Alfonso. He's just as good as gold. But I've - I've lost two geese, and... I'm about to lose a third,' Silvio choked out.

'I'm so sorry, I'll try to get there as soon as I can. Did they show any signs of illness before?' Alfonso's voice sounded alarmed over the speaker, turned to its maximum volume due to the old man's poor hearing.

'No. No, they were fine - more than fine, they were healthier than ever.' Silvio sounded broken.

'It'll take me an hour or two to get here, is there anyone else you can call in the village,' Alfonso said. Pepelito thought he could hear Rita's voice in the background. Degolladora flapped her wings weakly and shut her eyes. The other geese looked fearful, grouped by the fence. They were quiet. Two of them moved sluggishly, eyes half closed.

'He's closed on weekends, and he's no good with birds, one of my layers died a few years ago due to that man's foolishness,' Silvio sobbed.

'I'll be there ASAP,' Alfonso said. There was a pause. 'Silvio?'

'Yes?'

'Have you got any glucose syrup, or activated charcoal? You should feed both to all the geese, if you can.'

'Glucose syrup. I do. I know I do. I used to keep it somewhere. I think I still have it. What's the other one. Charcoal?' Silvio lifted Degolladora carefully off his lap and got up shakily. Pepelito and Maribel were left with the goose who had once terrorised them. She gazed at them with difficulty. The formidable bird looked at the two much larger animals, her feathers dull, her once beady eye now with a tired, agonised expression, her long neck stiff and her breathing laboured.

She was trying to tell them something.

Maribel nuzzled Degolladora's soft feathers, her eyes dripping. The white goose didn't react, just turned her head slightly. As Pepelito touched his nose against her wing, the leader of the gang who had saved him closed her eyes for the last time and rested her head on the ground.

Silvio bent down, picked something up from the ground a few paces away, and let out a scream of pain. Pepelito turned towards him. He was holding a small bottle in one hand and his phone in the other; his phone fell from his hand as he howled. It was a gut wrenching sound. Tears ran from Pepelito's eyes.

Silvio shambled towards the shed, looking like a ruined soldier coming back from a war. He rummaged around desperately, re-emerging after several minutes with the activated charcoal and glucose syrup. Silvio tried to approach the geese but they scattered in different directions, some flew away, some walked, a few much slower than others.

Maybe Pepelito could help.

He looked at Maribel, psyched himself up to approach the remaining geese. Maribel followed a few paces behind as he lumbered towards the fence. Some of the geese scattered from him, a couple flew. The aggression was gone, replaced with fear and horror. A big grey goose with an orange beak, Diablo, hissed at him and backed towards the fence, too sluggish to follow the others. Pepelito stood facing the goose imposingly, snorting at him and backing him against the fence with his horns and much larger size. Diablo managed a weak hiss.

'Thanks, amigo,' Silvio said, patting him. The farmer's hands shook as he grabbed Diablo, who bit him on the nose. Pepelito backed away. Silvio tried to force the medicine down the goose's neck, the bird flapping his wings vigorously.

'My beauties, my warriors,' Silvio muttered through tears. He held the struggling goose, pouring as much of the antidote down his beak as he could. Pepelito and Maribel started towards two others, trying to trap them into a corner between themselves and the gate. He remembered when he'd realised Alfonso was trying to make him better. How could he make the birds see?

'Get it down you, I can't lose you as well. You're a hero, you've got more courage and bravery in one feather than that hijo de puta has ever managed in his entire miserable existence.' Diablo sneezed some of the syrup mixture back out. Silvio held the bird's beak shut for a minute as he struggled and flapped. The fear in his owner's voice alarmed Pepelito.

It told him he should also be frightened.

One of the geese struck his leg with his foot. Pepelito flinched and turned around. As the wind changed direction he smelt the scent of a human he knew only too well.

Had the horse stung him? Blood gushed down his side; he panicked, taking bigger and bigger breaths which didn't give him any air. He felt himself cry out but couldn’t hear anything. He galloped towards the other side of the ring. Someone appeared from nowhere, holding a stick in each hand. Could he help?

'Come on, toro. Venga, venga.'

'That's some of the worst offenders taken out. Good thinking with the poison.' The man laughed coldly, too far for Silvio to hear but closer than Pepelito ever wanted to be.

The men's footsteps drew closer, approaching them from the woods several hundred metres away at the top of the hill. He and Maribel both grunted, pounding the track, kicking up soil as Silvio tried to round up another goose.

'What is it, old girl? I know. I know,' Silvio muttered. Maribel pawed the ground, nudging him with her wet nose. He hadn't seen or heard them. She mooed again, prodding him with her foot. It wasn't working, Pepelito thought in panic.

The man leapt away from him. Pain took over everything. He couldn't see. He was frothing at the mouth so much he was choking.

'Let me catch my beauties, Maribel. I can't lose any more.' She shook her tail and stamped. Silvio tried to restrain another goose, who was biting at the air and trying to wriggle free. Neither of them knew what to do. They couldn't make him understand. The handful of geese who were still healthy knew. They flapped their wings and took off, honking as they went.

Leaving everyone else alone.

'No, that stuff's not nice, is it. Good girl,' Silvio said to the goose as she nipped him on the arm. Pepelito scratched a line in the hard, dusty soil. Why didn't Silvio see?

'There he is. That mad bastard.' As Silvio looked up, a man stepped in front of the farmhouse, holding a gun.

'What do you want, son?' he shouted, staggering to his feet. The man did not speak. He lifted up the barrel and squeezed the trigger, firing several times. Maribel gave a horrified cry. Pepelito heard the shots, watched Silvio crumple to the ground. He couldn't see the men now, just hear them and smell them.

Maybe, if he pushed him, he could make him get up. The metallic scent was so strong in his nose, Pepelito knew he couldn't. He walked forward to be near Silvio as he died, to say goodbye to someone who had been so kind to him. As he licked the old man's face, Castella's assistants laughed out of sight. His tail crept between his legs as he heard how they were talking.

'The crazy bastard's treated him like a pet.'

'He won't want to fight. He's been well fed and pampered.'

'Strong, though. I can't stand weak, scrawny bulls. They make me sick.'

As he looked up and growled, pawed the ground in fear, something hit him. They threw a rope around his horns and began pulling tightly. There were so many of them swarming and tugging at him from different directions. There was another loud bang and a cry from behind him. One of his legs got tangled in the rope as he kicked out at one of them, he couldn't lift it out from underneath. The rope rubbed the skin where the top of his leg met his belly, scraped it hard and he stumbled.

Maribel was calling out for him. He couldn't turn around properly. Hearing her, he grunted and bellowed in horror. One of them pulled on her tail as she cried for his help. Her front leg was bleeding; she couldn't stand.

'That's it, Pepelito, time's up, no escape now,' one of them laughed, as the men pulled on the rope, dragging him towards their truck and tugging at his horns. He dug his feet into the dried mud, knowing it was useless, tried to run back to help Maribel. There were so many of them and they were too strong for him. He was tired and hadn't had much to eat yet. The image of Silvio lying dead was burned into his eyes. The smell of blood and the motionless birds made him want to run. There was nowhere to run to.

'All right, boss?' one of the others said into his phone, stamping on his foot to force him to move. As one of them twisted his tail, he scrambled up the ramp to get away from them, knowing he shouldn't get in, knowing they were taking him somewhere horrible. Maribel bellowed at him in fear, screaming at him to come back. He couldn't.

'Hector! Hopefully you've got a result.' Pepelito's ears flicked; he cringed in fear as he heard Castella's voice.

'Yeah. We've got him.'

AN: Oh noooo :(

What do you think Rita should do when she finds out what Castella's gang have just done?