After finishing her farm chores, Lilly hoped into her small, boxy car and headed toward her neighbor, Tunni. Lilly was still reeling over the fact that her kind, soft-spoken neighbor was the master greenskeeper of Briarhaven. The exterior of Tunni’s home was almost as enchanting as the gnome herself, with vibrant moss crawling up the stone walls and multi-hued lichen adorning the thatched roof.
Lilly waved at Tunni’s husband, the elf Elandro, as he worked in their cornfields. Bright, cheerful sunflowers surrounded the field and softly swayed back and forth as if dancing to the tunes of nature. Tunni had told her snippets of the forbidden romance between herself, a gnome, and Elandro, an elf; but Lilly was dying to know the full story. Hopefully, someday, her friend would entrust her with the details.
Knocking gently on the door, Lilly waited for her friend to answer. Soon, Tunni, her bright green eyes and green hair gleaming, threw open the door with a welcoming warmth.
Before Lilly could even utter a greeting, Tunni ushered her in. “Lilly! It’s so nice of you to visit. Would you like some tea?”
Lilly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tunni. I will stop by for a longer visit shortly; but right now, I am on a mission. I found a cria in my well, Tunni,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “It seems to be doing well, but I need some starclover to supplement its diet. Do you know where I might find some?”
As if on cue, a whirlwind of energy burst through the room. Tunni’s two young boys, Finn and Pip, zipped past. Their pointed ears matched their father, and their mossy green hair was a mirror of their mother’s. They were a blur of motion, their youthful exuberance lighting up the room.
“Hello, Finn. Hello, Pip,” Lilly greeted, her voice warm with affection.
The boys reciprocated. “Hello, Lilly!” But both of their eyes were searching for something on the ground. Finally, a small leaf-like creature darted off into another part of the cottage with the boys right behind it.
Tunni gave them a tender smile before returning her attention to Lilly. “I know of starclover, but I don’t personally grow it, Lilly. I have no magical animals in need of it. But I know it thrives in our forest.” Her delicate gnome hands moved quickly, sketching a detailed image of the starclover on a scrap of parchment. “Here, this should help you identify it.” She handed the parchment to Lilly.
Lilly said goodbye and climbed back in her car, dreading a long search in the woods when she had so many things she should be doing on her own farm. Instead of returning home, Lilly drove to the small, rural town of Thornwood. Mabel seemed to know everything about living around here; surely, she could help.
Upon entering the comforting hum and bustle of Thornwood Goods, Lilly was immediately greeted by the familiar and harmonious clinking of the entrance bell. This modest yet inviting store was as homey as it was functional. Each wooden shelf teemed with an array of items, from common household goods to more exotic and much more expensive items infused with the properties of magical animals. The store didn’t sell true magical items—they required a large part of a magic wielders pool of magic to create and, therefore, were cost-prohibitive for anyone but the rich or very magical.
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Amid this eclectic array of items stood Mabel, her two little black horns poking out of the top of her head. Lilly smiled at the small, animated owner of the store. She was always helpful when Lilly was trying to find her footing on her farm, and she had a vivacious personality that often overshadowed her diminutive stature.
“Mabel,” Lilly said, “I need your guidance. I’m trying to locate a plant called starclover. Have you heard of it?” Her voice held a tone of hopefulness, underscored with a note of desperation.
Mabel paused, her expressive eyes narrowing in thought. The silence stretched between them for a few heartbeats before she finally spoke. “Well, Lilly, it’s not something we keep in stock, I’m afraid. But I do know someone who might be able to help. There’s an herbalist, who lives in the depths of the nearby woods. She’s a wise one, always been good with rare plants and such. You might find your starclover with her.”
Mabel paused for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly as she tapped a finger against her chin. "Well, she’s a bit of a recluse and keeps to herself mostly. Not many know her by name. I'm afraid I don’t either, but she is known to have an extensive knowledge of the forest and its plants. You’d want to head east from here. Follow the main road until you see a large willow tree with bark that’s peeling off in large patches. It stands out quite a bit; you can’t miss it. From there, take the narrow trail leading north into the forest. Follow it straight for about fifteen minutes, and you’ll come upon her cabin. It’s a quaint, little thing, nestled right at the foot of a hill.”
“Thanks, Mabel,” Lilly responded, relief washing over her. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Just be careful, Lilly,” Mabel added. “As you know, the wilds can be unpredictable. Best of luck with finding your starclover!”
A shiver ran down Lilly’s spine as she remembered her encounter with the glawackus just today. That could have ended very badly.
Before leaving, Lilly pinned a handwritten notice on the shop’s community board. It detailed a recently found alpaca cria, although she intentionally omitted any explicit details about its unique features. She wanted to ensure that any claimants could correctly identify the distinct creature, thus confirming their rightful ownership.
As Lilly turned to leave, something on the community board caught her eye. It was a quaint, handmade sign that featured a whimsical sketch of an adorable, yet peculiar creature—a dog-like being with a pair of feathered wings sprouting from its back. The illustration was done with a delicate hand, portraying the creature’s soft fur and soulful eyes with great detail. The words “Livestock Guardian For Sale” were inscribed in bold, flowing letters beneath the drawing.
Lilly probably couldn’t afford a livestock guardian. She was just making ends meet at the Thornwood Farmers Market as it was. She probably didn’t need one, anyway; apparently, she was doing just fine on her own, yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs like a maniac—although Lilly couldn’t help but chuckle at the image of a winged canine swooping down to protect her vegetable garden from any unruly goats.
“Doing your part for the community as always, Lilly?” Mabel’s warm voice floated over, amusement lacing her words.
“Only hoping the rightful owner finds their lost one, Mabel. You don’t happen to know of any rainbow alpaca farms around here, do you?”
Mabel shook her head. “No, the old woman who ran one close to here sold off her stock and moved away a few months ago, so it can’t be hers.”
“All right. Thanks, anyway. Now, I have a starclover to find.” Lilly’s departing words hung in the air, her determination palpable.
With a last smile of thanks to Mabel, she stepped back into the sunshine. She had a reclusive old woman to find, starclover to obtain, and a cria that she desperately wanted to get back to.