Let Belit speak with the bull

You decided to step aside and let Belit take care of this one. You hoped her studies with those druids would pay off-- this creature looked a step past wild in the direction of demonic. She struck you as someone more about stealth and speed than endurance or strength. If a lady her size managed to outlast the bull, it would be a feat worthy of drawing Mympho's attention, for sure.

"There's the confidence a squire ought to have in a saintess! Especially when that Saintess is the great Belit Von Bromide," she cheered, slapping your back with one gloved palm as she stepped on past you towards the gate.

"No way! C'mon, you're gonna let yer lady ride for ya? Ain't you got no spine?" the bull-breeder questioned, perhaps thinking that the spectacle of a girl her size being trampled by a bull was not the kind of atmosphere he'd been hoping to cultivate.

"Something tells me you're the one that's not on the up-and-up, buddy," Belit answered, stepping between the two of you and thrusting one finger against the guy's chest. "Something fishy's going on with this bull-ride and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

The man, a head taller than she was, put on an innocent grin and held his hands out to his sides. "Ain't nothin' shady here! I'm just givin' guys like your pal here a chance to show off! Or, uh, that's what it's supposed to be. Night Parade's all about that kinda fun!"

"Oh, yeah. You rustled a big bull like that into the middle of town and offered free rides with no prizes for the sake of 'fun.' Sure, sure," the thief chuckled, then rolled her eyes. "I think it might be better if I get it from the horse's mouth. Or the bull's."

"Be my guest, then!" the handler chuckled, beginning to pat the side of the fence to draw the bull over.

"No need for that. He'll let me ride."

You and the bandana-wearing man watched in confusion as Belit hopped the fence with a dexterous leap, then held her hands at her sides. Next, she began speaking a language the other man had never heard before, but which you recognized as the druid's tongue. Warily, the bull began to approach her, snorting and swaying its broad, sinewy body with measured movements. The bull gave a few low grunts, then thrashed its head from side to side, threatening to gore her if she got too close. Disregarding the warning, she approached and continued talking.

A crowd had indeed gathered to watch, although out of something like morbid curiosity. There was no way that the girl was getting out of this unscathed.

Or so they thought. To everyone's surprise, the bull ceased tossing its head and lowered it, allowing her to climb on top. In the Amulette-styled outfit, she was unable to avoid exposing the black, V-style panties under her deep purple miniskirt for a moment as she got up top and threw her legs to either side. It struck you that her more healthy, less pallid flesh tone made it harder to hide the exact details of upskirts than the skirt's usual owner.

The bull dwarfed Belit to a hilarious extent, but it seemed almost docile.

She whispered something else to it and snickered. The bull snorted, then began to kick and hop, drawing gasps from the crowd... but, as you looked closer, you noticed a significant change in its movements. It wasn't so wild as it had been earlier. She easily rode out the two minutes that she'd been challenged to.

"Well I'll be. Broadside, what's gotten into ya?" the trainer asked, flabbergasted. The bull didn't understand his words, of course-- only Belit seemed to be capable of reaching him. "Gosh-dawg it all!"

"Hey, buddy. Now that our little challenge is over, lemme tell you what me and Nelson talked about."

"N-Nelson?"

"That's right, Nelson," Belit responded with a big grin, leaning forward to stroke the bull's mane gently with one hand. "Sounds like this place is unfamiliar and has him awfully stressed. Well, not just that. You, on top of it! Seeing as you stole him from his owner's ranch and brought him here."

"Now why would I do a plum idiot thing like that?"

"I've got a little theory. See, you've got the mannerisms of a real rancher... but not a very good one. I theorize that you wanted to advertise your big, virile breeding bull, but there was just one problem: you didn't have one. So you rustled him off a neighbors farm for the night and brought him here for advertising, hoping for somebody to get a look at him. You might use it as advertisement for your ranch or you might even sell Nelson like he was your own bull. As for who specifically you were hoping to catch the eye of... well, I'm only human," she shrugged. "Didn't get that far!"

"N-N-Now... Now you hold on, partner! I ain't done none of that you're accusing me of!"

"Then let's get another druid out here to confirm it. There's probably one or two around here in the Night Parade."

"... Whaddya want from me?"

Belit opened her mouth to say the obvious answer: hush money. When she saw you looking at her skeptically, she sighed and slumped her arms. "All I want is you to take Nelson back where he belongs."

The deal came to an end and the people cheered-- a fine side-quest under the belts of you and your saintess. Belit reveled in their adulation for a bit as they clapped and whistled, then approached you, pushing her hat up with one thumb to scratch at her bushy brown hair. "Doesn't do me right to see an animal being mistreated like that. That big fella belongs on a ranch with his wives, not bustin' his hump out here. You and him are kinda alike in the regard of having way too many wives," she joked, elbowing you in the ribs playfully. "Thanks for letting me take care of that."

You smiled and watched the scene as the fraud worked to disperse the crowd so he could take Nelson back where he belonged.