Smack down in the middle of the continent, set in a small country sits a cottage. A dainty thing, its stone walls covered in unpainted mortar, held together with charred wooden beams. Its roof, like a fuzzy hat made of straw, tied together with linen rope, holding a pipe like chimney, puffing round clouds of smoke every now and then.

The house rumbles and grumbles, sounds of metal pans and spatulas being moved around from one spot to another. - “Where’d I put it~?!” - Fauna’s voice pushes out of the windows, rousing Snail from his afternoon cat-nap. 

- “What’s all this meowing about?” - Snail stretches out his fluffy back and yawns. He hops through the cluttered but clean inside of the cottage, a man on a mission to check on his caretaker. 

Fauna looks over her shoulder, crouching by a set of pans and pots she’s been rummaging through. Her emerald green hair waves over her shoulder. - “The tart pan!” - She points to the pile of cookware. - “I put it in here after I last used it, and somehow it’s gone.”

Snail jumps over a pot and then onto the cupboard. He looks at Fauna lazily and says - “Go! Mew will look for it.” - He jumps down and bites onto one of the pots next to Fauna, pulling it bit by bit to the cupboard. 

- “Are you sure~!?” - Fauna jumps up, her soft white dress puffs, the leather apron flapping around in tandem. Snail in response to her lifts up his fuzzy butt, presses his front paws into the floor and with a mighty “Meow!” pulls on the pan, moving it further than the tugs before.

- “Just don’t overdo it.” - She gives him a playful pat on the head and Snail tries to catch her hand with his paws. She wipes her forehead and takes off her apron, throwing it on the table, opposite to the cupboard. Snail meows loudly in response and continues his masterful tug of war with the pan.

Fauna approaches the front door and presses her fingers on a small touch panel on the frame. The large, arched door creaks open in front of her and the chill puff of wind carrying the grasslands smell flows along her cheeks and into the house. With a huff and clapping her face on the cheeks softly, she exits out of the cottage.

The hilly meadows sprawl around the house, tall enough to reach Fauna’s hips they sway and dance, following the push and pull of the winds brushing against them. Fauna steps out and onto a cobblestone path, leading from the front door onto a larger cobbled road. 

With a slow step, Fauna begins to make her way down the road. It dips and winds and snakes its way through the hilly landscape, all the while the massive wind farms in the distance fill her commute with a steady rhythm, her steps following the swinging propellers.

As she makes her way further down the road a short stone wall appears. It’s older than most houses in the area. After following it for only a few, her commute is stopped by a herd of sheep being hurried along from one field to the other by an older man.

- “Aah! Ms.Fauna, how goes your mornin?” - The old fellow tips his hat and chews on a piece of gum loudly, the wrinkles on his face stretching and contracting as he does. From time to time he slaps one of the sheep on the butt to move them along, only to be met with a glare from the herd.

- “Really well, are the sheep giving you trouble old friend?” - She crouches down and follows one of the sheep with her eyes. For a second she ponders, how does one make sheep walk? A sudden idea clicks in her head. - “Come on girls, I heard there’s some great grass further in the field!” - Fauna points over to the sheep’s destination. The herd stops for a second, only to let out a collective “Beee!” and swiftly make their way across the road.

The old man scratches the back of his head and looks at the approaching Fauna. - “If only my wife knew how to do that.” - With a hearty laugh he steps off into the field, following his sheep. Fauna gives him a quiet smile and moves along with her trip.

She continues down the road, moving towards her little garden. A gust of wind hits her from the front and Fauna’s dress starts flapping about while she sprawls out her arms and spins on her heel, only to continue forward after a long breath. 

- “Well hello there friends~!” - Fauna steps into the garden. It’s protected by a simple chain-link fence and a simple gate with a lock hanging off the chain, keeping it all closed up.

The sprouting sunflowers swing left-right in response, veggies rustle their greens to present themselves just right for Fauna. Moving through the garden, She stops by some crops here and there, crouching down and sticking her finger into the soil.

Fauna walks past the vegetables, sunflowers and a large flower carpet she’s been trying to grow for years now, lined with deep blue petunia’s, orange tulips and foxglove. - “Oh my, it seems someone decided sunbathe?” - Fauna steps next to the small solar farm that powers her entire garden. She looks over the three larger solar panels, one of which has for a while now been growing a patch of moss. She asked it to leave, multiple times even, but it seems she has to apply firmer eviction practices this time.

Fauna goes over to the generator shack, where she holds all of her gardening tools. Dust puffs out of the shack after the door opens. While waving it away from her face, Fauna enters the shack and after a couple of minutes of rummaging through the items inside, she comes out, holding a shovel and bucket. 

The moss happily bops and shifts under the warm sunlight. Fauna looks over at it from the shack, the prospect of moving the moss not without risk. - “Alright.” - Fauna dramatically points at the moss. - “I hereby declare you evicted!” - With a gentle shove, Fauna pushes the the shovel under the moss, lifting it off the solar panel and then slowly putting it in the bucket. After setting the shovel aside, she grabs the bucket and makes her way over to the irrigation system and pours some water into the bucket. - “And now you’ll wait until I figure out where to put you.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The work on the farm moves slowly, but surely. Weeds get pulled out of the flower carpet, tomatoes get checked in the greenhouse and radishes get planted in a freshly prepared plot of tilled soil. The entire garden radiates the smell of freshly exposed soil mixed with water.

After the day’s tasks are done, Fauna washes off her hands from all the dirt. All the while, the disgruntled moss is making itself known, peeking over at her from the bucket, waiting for its new home. - “Alright, just hold on a few more minutes.” - She whips her hands to flick the water off them and ties back her hair. 

Fauna approaches a large rock that’s been chilling in the far corner of the garden. After checking it for cracks and sliding her hand over it, clearing some of the brushes it gathered around it a smile paints on her face. - “Rough enough! The moss will stick just fine here.” - With a jump, Fauna gets off her knees and briskly makes her way over to the moss.

She grabs the bucket and looks inside. - “You’re going to love your new home! It’s rocky, and round, sunny too~!” - The moss wobbles inside the bucket in response, the two of them making their way over to the rock, the mossy friends new home.

The stoic rock happily accepts it’s new roommate. Fauna makes sure to put the moss in one piece and towards where the sun shines the brightest during the day, can’t have it starving after kicking it out of its home. 

- “Have some more of this too.” - She grabs the bucket and tilts it over the mossy rock, pouring the rest of the water on it. With a slightly hurting back and legs, Fauna finally lifts of the ground and declares her work today done. Right on cue too as the sprinklers just flipped on. Flapping the water around, making sure the thirsty plants are satiated.

The walk back home was calm. The thought of baking fresh bread and hopefully getting the tarts started filled Fauna’s head. But before that…

- “Aaaaaaah…” - She slams her butt on the couch and melts into the cushions, sprawling out her arms and legs. Fauna’s entire muscle mass starts to sag on her skeleton as she melts into the soft feeling. - “Finally home…” - There’s no denying it, honest work is hard. For a minute there she contemplates if she should get some robotic help to the farm, but that gets quickly shoved away. Can’t have that!

- “Meow! Busy day as usual?” - Snail hop on top of the backrest and trots over to Fauna’s head, plopping his behind on her head, sitting between her horns. - “I found the tart pan.” - He points with is paw to the cupboard.

Fauna shifts her head just enough for Snail to slide off and flop onto her lap. It is indeed there. In fact, the entire house is clean. - “How did you clean all of this by yourself?” - Her question is not without merit, Snail’s a lazy bum, spending most of his time by the window or on Fauna’s lap whenever possible. 

- “A cat’s gotta have secrets, meow~!” - Snail begins to knead Fauna’s lap before doing a few spins in place and falling over on his side. 

After giving Snail a few scratches on the head and behind the ear, Fauna gently pulls him off her lap. Snail protests, his body fully relaxing to make it harder to pull him but it’s no use. She sets him aside and gets off the couch, stretching her back and spreading her arms wide with a loud yawn. 

With the time just right to start baking bread, Fauna makes her way to a closed wooden door. She’s always looked forward to this, the smell of fresh bread filling the house, the fact that she can give higher purpose to what would otherwise just be a random plant on the side of the road fills her heart with warmth. 

With a creak, it opens, revealing a wall of baking utilities, a massive paddle for bread or any other baked goods, a bowl full of Sourdough, some eggs, flour and yeast.

She grabs the Sourdough, flour and yeast, setting it onto the table. Afterwards, she grabs the prepared loafs and sets them next to the brick bread oven. Fauna gently opens the cast iron metal door and sets the temperature to 450*F. 

The inside of the oven begins to glow a gentle orange. For a second, just to enjoy it she closes her eyes and lets the hot air puff on her, relaxing her face and soul. Once the iron door is closed, the preheating doesn’t take long so she moves quickly now, grabbing a sharp knife and stopping in front of the prepared for baking bread. 

With a swift move she cuts an “X” on each loaf, except for the last… the last one is for her so she gives it a smiley face instead to which she smiles back. - “I’m going to get some warm water. Watch the oven please.” - Fauna slides on her apron and grabs a bucket. Snail flicks his tail, looking at her and then at the oven with a quiet yawn, afterwards proceeding to flop back onto his side with a small thud.

After a light chuckle Fauna exits the house and takes the bucket behind the building where an autonomous water filtering system is working away, some of the water is preheated. She fills the entire bucket with warm water from a tap sticking out and goes back into the house.

With her leg she hooks a small stool from beneath the dinner table and slides it with a slight creak across the wooden floor towards the kitchen table. Fauna sets the bucket with warm water on the stool and with an iron rod opens the oven door. The room fills with the smell of heated remnants of baked food that has failed or fell off the paddle. 

Speaking off, she grabs the big hunk of wood and throws some flour on it. Fauna with a hum pushes the first loaf onto the paddle and with a trained motion, shoves the bread into the oven. - “One done~.” - She throws some more flour onto the paddle and slides the next loaf of bread onto it, shoving it into the oven, right next to the first one.

After sliding the third loaf in, she turns to her smiling friend while coating the paddle with a fresh puff of flour. Fauna slides her loaf of happy bread onto the paddle and with a gentle shove, places it in the middle of the oven, closing the iron door behind it.