In the third and final month of their training, a team of bull-dancers is expected to go to the field, and take their bull. It's simply enough done, in theory: go with ropes and nets, and tether a cow under a tree, and wait. Bulls being what they are, even the Cretan ones with their slow wits, simple does not always mean safe. Sometimes, someone is hurt, or killed. The bull is sacred, after all, and the dancers are not allowed to hurt him even to save their lives. Only to distract and restrain him.
Sometimes, the bulls seem almost to know this.
The front door
SLAMS open in a tumult of hooves and dust and the bawling of angry cattle. Splinters fly everywhere- from the floor, mostly, though there is a hoof-strike that does the door itself some damage. The beast that thunders through, snorting and pawing the floor, is typical of his breed: a great red-brown beast with a splash of white across his muzzle, long curving horns that stretch straight forward, fifteen hundred pounds of muscle and sinew.
And one bull-dancer, a dark-haired girl of fifteen years and slight build, frantically clinging to his left horn and shouting, "Someone distract him before he kills someone! I can't hold on much longer!"
[OOC: Feel free to react however you like, but Thalestris has to return a living, unharmed bull to Crete when she goes back, so I would greatly appreciate it if pups who tag this post refrain from shooting the beast or other such unpleasantness. He'll be causing property damage, but I've got the okay for that. Also, as usual, Thalestris visual appearance notice. Thanks!]