Vickie stiffens up, and stays that way until the goat makes contact. The gentle nudge loosens some deep, violent tension in her, and releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Greta," she murmurs, "you do not wanna enter the 'find out' phase of 'fuck around', c'mon now."

Her right hand hovers. This, at least, is a classic thought pattern and emotion: Can I Pet This Creature?