Edited February 3 to add inked version. Pilot Hi-Tec-C, 0.3mm tip.
She had called her parents last night, and asked them to drop off her son at the 'Shoppe for a visit the next afternoon. She had a break, after the lunch rush, and before the majority of their business would come in, as people got off work around five, and she had thought it would be a good time to get together for a little while. Though the arrangements were made with innocent intent, as soon as she saw one of the Fawns, mere minutes later, the idea was in her head. The afternoon rush blended into the evening rush, and as much as she enjoyed the sense of purpose, the playful camaraderie she had effortlessly fallen into, she couldn't manage to focus on her work. Not for the first time, she was immensely grateful for the bit and bridle she wore, and the driver who gave her gentle direction through them - tonight, she was definitely testing his skill.
During their rub-downs after their task was complete for the night, she was able to focus and enjoy the moment, for the hot towels were immensely pleasant, but that was about it. At dinner she was unusually quiet, and instead of spending time with her new friends in the Stable’s lounge area, she quietly slipped off to her stall to go to bed early. However, sleep was long in coming, and she spent the rest of the evening thinking about volunteering her only son as a Fawn - though if she was being honest with herself, she was mostly thinking about lapping the kit.
The next morning, when she woke up, she ate her breakfast and went about her preparations for the day almost quivering with anticipation. She bounced from hoof to hoof while one of the keepers helped her into her harness - and donning those hoofboots in the first place had taken a dog's age, by her reckoning. She threw herself into the work with gusto - or at least more gusto than usual, receiving occasional bemused or annoyed looks from her teammate when she set the pace at well above a comfortable trot, as though she could hurry and get to the visit sooner (though the gentle tug of the reigns on her bit as she took the lead kept her from getting too far ahead of her partner). Waiting for midmorning fares from those sneaking out of work for a coffee break left the poor dragoness squirming in impatience, and as the lunch rush hit she was at least too busy to occupy herself with the mantra of "how long now?" As her last fare left the sleigh and rubbed her cheeks gratefully, she only managed a perfunctory show of affection, licking at the cold hands, she waited eagerly to be unharnessed from the sleigh. One of the keepers, as requested, clipped a leash - of the same firetruck-red nylon webbing as their tow-straps - onto her collar, and led her around the corner to the Bodyshoppe lobby where she would meet her son. She sat on the sidewalk next to the keeper, catlike, her tail curled around her boots to keep it from flicking around so far. She would make a pest of herself, and it would also be unbecoming of her post. She had mostly managed to calm herself, leaning against the doe's leg, when the autocab pulled smoothly up to the curb and her son disembarked. Before she could unwind her tail, he was on her like an irridescent cruise missile, his peacock scales contrasting with her pale green, climbing her sweater in excitement and nuzzling into her neck.
"Mama! Mamamama!" he cried in joy. "I'm glad to see you!" he said, before he switched back to nuzzling and licking. "It's good to see you too, Matti," she replied, and licked his nose and cheek fondly as the keeper opened the door to the shoppe's lunch counter. She undid the Reindeer's leash as they entered the restaurant, rubbed her between the horns, and said "Now be good. And that goes for you, too." said the doe with a smile, laying a finger on the Reindeer's nose. She stuck out her tongue and smirked, her son giggling. "Are you having fun, Mama?" he asked with a smile. "Oh-so-much of it!" she replied, the conversation fading from the doe's sensitive ears as she stepped into the elevator to pick up the Reindeer's relief.
Several minutes later, the doe returns through the same elevator door, leading a stocky gentling by the nose - he was branded and decorated - nose, tail, and horns - but his regalia was all at the Stable, so she had resorted without hesitation to clipping her leash to the ox's nose-ring. Judging by his build, she figured he had been on the implant for over a month, now, and she expected nothing less than perfect docility from him - he should have had plenty of opportunity to get used to it by now, and she was pleased when he didn't bat an eye at the treatment. While mostly decorative, she was required to keep her Reindeer on a leash while they were on-shift. Probably to keep lollygagging down to a bearable level, she thought. I bet they'd be fine, but everybody who wanted to give them a hug or take a selfie would have no sense of how much imposition is diplomatic, she mused on the way to the front door.
"... if I told you what the surprise was, it wouldn't be a surprise, now, would it?" she said to her son. She gestured over with her tail, and a discreetly-watching waitress grabbed a plate from behind the counter and strode over to offer the little dragon the contents of the plate - a two-inch cube of Turkish delight in the shape of a gift box. "… But this is for you," she said with an indulgant smile. With a happy squee, the dragonet seized the candy in his jaws, and began to nibble it down - he was doing a halfway decent job not wolfing it down in one gulp, actually.
The ox saw it and smiled, for he recognized the gummies for what they were - they contained a fast-acting anxiolytic and a mild tranquilizer. That meant there was a cape in his future, for she was making a Fawn of him. He could smell elation, which he was pretty sure was coming from that direction, and he smiled. What a sweet thing to do for him, he thought as he followed the doe into the gently-falling snow.