Sylvie Caprine-Moo sat at the counter of The Frothing Mug, sipping her honey-milk tte and gring at her hand-held scrying gss, the medieval equivalent of a phone. Her cow ears twitched irritably as she scrolled through Beastly Encounters, Velvet Tailwind’s worst (and only) therian dating app service. The gss shimmered with profile after profile of questionable men, each one more bizarre than the st.

  Rina Vixenshaw, her fox-girl bestie, leaned over her shoulder, sipping her fey-fox milk (which made her pupils glow unnervingly). Mina Hophart, their rabbit-girl friend, peered at the screen with the deep anxiety of someone who would never risk online dating.

  “Alright,” Rina smirked, flicking her fluffy tail, “let’s find you a man, cow-goat.”

  Sylvie groaned. “We’re calling me cow-goat now?”

  “Better than Udder Disaster, which was my first idea,” Rina said, winking.

  Mina, ever the responsible one, gently nudged Sylvie’s arm. “You don’t have to do this. Not all love is found through scrying gss swipes.”

  Sylvie sighed. “Yeah, well, I sure as hell haven’t found it in real life.”

  She swiped to the first profile. A smug-looking minotaur in a silk vest.

  Profile Name: "Horns. Muscles. Enough Said." Bio: "I can carry you. I can bench-press a centaur. I don’t date weaklings."

  Sylvie frowned. “Why do people assume I want to date a minotaur?”

  Rina snorted. “Because it just makes sense, babe.”

  Swipe left. Next, a mystical-looking elf with glowing silver eyes.

  Profile Name: "Moonlight Whisperer."

  Bio: "I seek a soft soul, one who understands the bance between shadow and light. I dream of slow walks through enchanted groves and nights spent under the stars, whispering poetry to your heart."

  Sylvie squinted. “This guy seems… emotionally exhausting.”

  Mina’s ears drooped sympathetically. “Oh no, he’s one of those.”

  Sylvie tapped ‘Message’ and typed, "I need you to touch some grass."

  Then she swiped left.

  Next. A centaur who had cropped his profile picture at the waist.

  Profile Name: "I Have My Own Transportation."

  Bio: "We can go for a ride. I can show you pces you’ve never seen. No baggage, no drama, just the open road."

  Sylvie rubbed her temples. “Why do centaurs always crop their pictures?”

  “They think it’s mysterious,” Rina said, scrolling through the pictures. “But, babe… this dude’s a cart horse.”

  Mina gasped. “He works for a merchant caravan! He probably just wants you to help pull carts.”

  Sylvie typed: "Are you looking for a girlfriend or a stablehand?"

  Swipe left.

  Next. A mouse therian with a nervous expression.

  Profile Name: "Small but Mighty."

  Bio: "5’6” but strong personality. Squeak squeak, baby. Also, if you’re taller, that’s a plus."

  Sylvie stared.

  Rina wheezed. “NOOOO! He actually wrote ‘squeak squeak, baby.’”

  Mina looked devastated on his behalf. “Poor thing. He tried his best.”

  Sylvie, reluctantly, typed:

  "I need you to go stand next to a wall and think about what you just wrote."

  Swipe left.

  Just as Sylvie was about to throw her looking gss into the nearest milk churn, Rina gasped dramatically.

  “Wait. WAIT. Look at this one.”

  The profile shimmered, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered stag Therian, dressed in a sleek velvet coat with golden embroidery.

  Profile Name: "Cyran Duskwood." Bio: "A gentleman of taste. Lover of deep conversation and fine wines. Let me take you somewhere unforgettable."

  Sylvie blinked. “Huh. Not bad.”

  Mina perked up. “Ooh! He sounds… normal?”

  Rina smirked. “He also has antlers. Imagine the power couple aesthetics.”

  With hesitation and mild hope, Sylvie swiped right.

  Sylvie met Cyran at a wine bar in Tailspin Alley, dressed in her best corset and high-waisted enchanted leggings (which adjusted to keep her goat tail from flicking too much). She adjusted her corset, her hucow figure blessed with generous curves, human in all the right pces. The Velvet Vintage buzzed softly around them, clinking gsses, murmured spells, and the faint aroma of enchanted elderberry wine.

  To her surprise, Cyran was charming. He complimented her outfit without being weird about it, asked thoughtful questions about her work with Therian fashion, and even made her ugh with a story about a cursed cravat that tried to strangle its wearer during a duel. He seemed genuinely curious, not just about her body, but about her city, her upbringing, and what kind of tailoring enchantments worked best on fox tails versus feline ones.

  Sylvie found herself rexing, smiling more than she expected. She even leaned in when he started telling her about his failed attempt to date a dryad.

  “She kept gifting me seeds,” he said, chuckling. “I had no idea what they meant. Thought she wanted me to grow herbs or something. Turns out they were, um… metaphors.”

  Sylvie ughed. “Velvet Tailwind dating logic: never literal, always risky.”

  Cyran smiled. “Exactly. So,” he said, leaning in with a smirk, “do you actually ctate, or is that just a stereotype?”

  Sylvie choked on her wine. The entire bar went silent. A nearby elf covered her mouth in horror. A minotaur at the bar winced in second-hand embarrassment. Rina, who had been eavesdropping from a nearby table, physically fell off her chair.

  Sylvie set her gss down very slowly. “Excuse me?”

  Cyran shrugged. “Just curious.”

  She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to flip the table. Instead, she snapped open her looking gss, went to Beastly Encounters, and blocked him on the spot.

  Then, she stood up.

  "Enjoy your evening, Cyran," she said sweetly. "I hope your antlers get stuck in a low-hanging branch."

  Then she walked out, tail flicking violently.

  Rina and Mina caught up with her outside, howling with ughter. “BABE. I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT HAPPENED.” Rina yelled.

  Mina looked scandalized. “Who just asks something like that?!”

  Sylvie groaned. “You know what? I give up. I’m done. Love is not real.”

  Rina wiped tears of ughter from her eyes. “Okay, but what if-”

  “If you say ‘minotaur’ one more time, I will throw you into the cheese-aging grotto.”

  Mina gently patted her arm. “At least this will make a great story.”

  Sylvie sighed. “Yeah. Another one for the collection.”

  She tossed her scrying gss into her satchel, ready to face another day in Velvet Tailwind’s dating hellscape. After all…

  Tomorrow would probably be worse.

  AUTHOR NOTE* This story marks the first appearance of Sylvie Capree Moo, ter a key figure in The Gilded Gaggle and Thavereon: Demi-God Sagas.