It was the morning of early Spring. The young Sprig was heading to the docks unnoticed for an early riser he was. No one had woken up in 6.00AM, nor did any shops in Pelican Town had opened at that time. Seeing the lack of any life in basically every corner of the town, he started doubting whether his chosen visiting hour was too early or-
"Ahoy there, son." Never mind, Willy was already hanging at the docks, "I'm glad to see a fellow early riser in Pelican Town," and it appeared that he had yet to begin fishing.
"Indeed, I had to develop that habit on my previous job to avoid getting fired," It was the second time Sprig mentioned his previous work life since his arrival.
"I'd say it paid off well. Come now," Willy led him towards the upcoming task at hand.
The quay they were currently occupying was parallel to the beach, and extended about 25 meters from the shoreline. Behind them rested some sort of boat house Sprig assumed was Willy's. There was a set of lamppost placed across the harbour, and a wooden bench beside the boat house. Finally, a second quay on their right perpendicular to the beach and extending even further, as the area was more suited for docking ships. Overall, it was standardly designed.
Willy took two fishing rods from a barrel near the boat house, "Here, kid." he handed one to the farmer.
As Sprig observed the rod, the first thought he received was a few nostalgic feelings of the times he went fishing as a kid, even if he couldn't remember the exact days. The second one was realizing his fishing rod didn't look as awesome as Willy's. He couldn't blame him, the man had practically done this for a living after all.
"What do I do now?"
Willy began instructing "Pay close attention, Sprig. Grip yer rod with both hands, hold the reel above the spinner. Now, you want to build some momentum and..." Willy swung the rod forward, "...release the reel yer holdin'..." he sent the hook flying afar, "...like so."
"Like this?" Sprig attempted to replicate what was shown. The results he presented were received accordingly, except for the shorter distance it covered.
"Not a bad start. Try it again," Willy instructed.
Once Sprig reeled back the hook, he repeated the same process he did before. The hook flew forward, and when it reached the water, the subsequent results were the same as the last one.
"Hmm, I see the problem; there was a lack of momentum in yer throw. Try throwing it a little harder."
For the third time, he did the same reeling-in-and-throwing-out process. Only now, Sprig spun his fishing rod back and forth while breathing heavily, until he could reach the right amount of momentum. Letting out a huge exhale, the hook was thrown. Willy observed the results; Sprig's distance had improved, that was, at the cost of his energy after Willy heard the volume of Sprig's bated breath overpowering the sound of the ocean.
"Haha, it's hard, eh son? No need to worry, every fisherman struggles at the start. But they eventually develop enough strength with time," Willy assured.
"Yeah, I see your point. I can't imagine how you did it every day."
Little did Sprig know, his presence had attracted someone who was wandering the vicinity at the time. The person made his way towards the quay in front of the boat house. Both Sprig and Willy were too preoccupied with their aquatic endeavors to notice the person approaching them.
"Ah, the new farmer we've all been expecting... and whose arrival has sparked many conversation!" A new voice entered the chat.
"Ah, Elliott. What brings ya 'ere? I thought you were goin' to the library today."
"I still am, Willy. But I simply can't defy my urges to meet Pelican Town's newest member."
Perhaps what was so fascinating about Elliott's fashion of choice was how it made him look like someone who came straight from the Victorian era, complemented the red peacoat, green tie, and prominently-appealing long hair. Sprig felt the only missing element to top it off was a ribbon tying his hair to complete the look. what a missed opportunity that was.
The man now known as Elliott turned his attention towards Sprig, "Dearest stranger, my name is Elliott, I live in the little cabin by the beach. It's a pleasure to meet you. Who might you be?"
"Sprig, pleasure to meet you too," the two strangers shook hands after introducing themselves.
"Sprig, I've never heard of such name before, for I believe you are the first soul to have it."
"Uh, thanks for the complement, Elliott."
Sprig resumed his throw-and-reel attempt. His body was operating similarly to those who trained over javelin-throwing competitions at the Olympic games. On the fourth swing, Elliott began catching up to Willy's previous inquiries as he also noticed the problem with Sprig's lack of momentum. Curious to hear what the novice was thinking, Elliott aimed to pose a single playful question.
"How do you find fishing so far, Sprig?"
After returning his hook, the exhausted Sprig gave him a brief answer, "While I did experienced fishing when I was a little, I didn't remember it to be this energy-consuming."
"Haha yes, that was exactly what I said to Willy when I first arrived here."
Typical Elliott, always thought of a way to lighten the mood as emitted by Willy's expression. However, the fisherman decided to barge in the middle of the communion upon hearing Sprig's answer, after it reminded him of the remaining fishing lessons he hadn't yet provided.
"That's not all of it, Sprig. besides throwing yer line, you also need to know how to hook your catch and reelin' them in. Those are an entirely different scenario with their own learning curve," Willy turned to face Elliott before continuing. "In the beginning, I had planned to guide you on that. Although, since Elliott is here, why not let him be the one who demonstrate it to ya?"
"Of course, Willy." Elliott gave Sprig a little pat on the shoulder, "Sprig, we're in for an entertaining experience."
The victorian-era man was given Willy's fishing rod. He remarked to have left his own at home, since fishing was supposed to be off his schedule today.
"Observe how it's done, friend." Sprig saw the hook Elliott threw, amazed at distance it reached. "When you had your hook underwater, there are two essentials you need to consider. The first one is your bobber; the small object floating on the face of the sea. and the second is the direction of where the fish pulls you."
Seconds later, Elliott pointed at the now submerged bobber "when the bobber become no longer visible, it indicates the prey has taken the predator's bait, identify the direction they're pulling you in, then counter by pulling towards the opposite direction." Elliott presented a precise depiction of the actions as he mentioned, "And Voila! we have ourselves a bite. All you need to do now is to reel it in. Tailor your approach: quick retrieval for weariness, gentle and slow for formidable resistance." Elliott reeled his catch, adjusting his speed based on its enduring state. As it got closer, the rod pulled out a herring off the ocean's surface.
"Your time to shine now." Elliott set the herring aside and gestured Sprig to follow.
"Okay, here it goes," Sprig said. Resembling his previous attempt, Sprig swung his fishing rod, and the distance of the bobber was still seen floating in a relatively short range. In a matter of seconds, a fish had taken the bait.
Sprig got excited, almost too excited that he immediately proceeded to reel it in. Sensing no resistance to be found after the chosen action, he became confused. He found out the fish had escaped his grasp the moment he saw an empty hook ascended from the water.
Elliott expressed his opinion, "Whoops, it looks like the fish got away, just like Captain Ahab and the elusive white whale. Don't forget to tug the rod, chap." Right, Sprig forgot that last part. Good to know someone was able to remind him.
Sprig followed Elliott's instructions for the second time, making sure he didn't forget to yank before reeling. It resulted in the same outcome, where the fish escaped because Sprig wasted too much time figuring out which direction should he yank it towards.
"Rats!"
"Oh my, it happened again. But, third time's the charm. Go ahead."
Yes, third time's the charm, where Sprig gave up trying to replicate what was previously shown and just asked for guidance once the bobber became submerged. When the inevitable happened, the farmer was in panic mode.
"What do I do? What do I do?"
"Patience, friend. The creature has taken your bait, you shall feel where its pulling you from," Elliott was there to reassure him.
Focus, he needed to focus, and make sure not to get too dramatic by closing his eyes. Sprig slowly straighten the road upwards, sensing the reel's direction.
Left,
Then right,
It went left again,
Now it swam back,
Then forward,
And right, that's it.
Sprig yanked the rod to the left. He felt his fishing rod produced a quick vibration, indicating the hook had pierced the fish's mouth.
"Wonderful, now reel it in. Remember to slow it down if you sense an increasing resistance, and improve the pace if it gets slow or weary." Elliott perceived what happened right away and put a cue after his complement, in case Sprig forgot.
Sprig was practically sweating like mad. Afraid to make the wrong step, he wasn't willing to risk letting his prey escaped like last time. Luckily, all he need at this part of the activity was patience and consistency, with only two things to consider according to the given instructions. Still, it took him four times the duration Elliott took before he could finally get his hands on the first fish he caught.
Sprig was hopping in joy, realizing this meant that he had just undergone the full fishing experience, "Elliott, Willy. I can't believe it. Look, I finally caught one," he expressed his childlike excitement.
"Oh, how marvelous. I knew you had it, chap. We shall rejoice in the glory of your first catch," and Elliott can't stop himself for getting a little dramatic.
Willy carved a proud smile on his face, after witnessing the whole event escalating from a distance. In his viewpoint, Sprig was far from the fastest person to grasp how fishing works, yet it was for the right reasons. Willy knew the farmer, was a indeed, a farmer. He understood Sprig had much to learn, and won't be investing a large amount of time to do so, mainly because of his role in Pelican Town. For now, it's best to focus on the positive side, while it lasts.
"Well done, Sprig. You too, Elliott, thank you for passing the knowledge," Willy switched his attention back to the farmer, "Sprig, I would like to say, welcome to the fishing life, young lad. Just remember not to push yourself too hard, eh? Ye still have a farm to manage."
"And I would express my thanks for inviting me here and teaching me all about it, Willy. Fishing is a delightful way to pass the time, but I can assure you, I don't view it in an alternative light. I know my limits," Sprig replied.
To celebrate having a third fishing acquaintance, Willy and Elliott had accepted Sprig's offer to partake in a short fishing session. After Willy retrived a third fishing rod from the boat house, the three men discover themselves engaged in a joint fishing venture that lasted the entire morning, whilst accompanied by other engaging activities; telling stories of the ocean, harassing the passing seagulls, whistling some sea shanties. They were mainly there to have a joyous time, rather than to compete against each other. Not to dismiss the main show, Sprig's hook-and-catch attempts had unfolded as expected during the entire session.
1st attempt, the fish got away for having the wrong reeling speed.
2nd attempt, an anchovy was caught.
3rd attempt, disappointment came in the form of a seaweed pretending to be a fish.
4th attempt, there were no fish taking the bait.
5th attempt, a herring was caught.
6th attempt, cockiness sets in as the same mistake of forgetting to hook the fish was repeated.
7th attempt, lesson learned and a flounder was caught.
8th attempt, intentionally letting the fish escape due to exhaustion.
Enough, Sprig thought for sure his muscles were now having a temper tantrum, and why not topping it off alongside a bit of disappointment. All those energies, all those attempts, for merely three fishes. Willy thought they'd be best to end it before Sprig accidentally passed out on the edge of the quay, fell into the sea, and drown.
"Well, cheers gentlemen. This has been quite an interesting meeting, but I must make my way to the great library now for a dose of fiction. I will see you soon. I expect we shall meet again, oh Farmer Sprig."
"Indeed we shall. Cheers, Elliott," Despite showing fatigue, Sprig thought he'd play along Elliott's antics. Not feeling any goodbye remorse for someone who lived a few meters away from the farm.
Elliott's departure gave Sprig an excuse to circle his mind back. Sprig held true to what he said earlier, specifically about Willy doing this every day as a profession. How was it possible that he could supply the whole town by using a single fishing rod? Sure, it was a cooler-looking and more high-tech fishing rod, but it was still a fishing rod nonetheless, one could only provide less than 50 fishes per day at most. There must be an easier and more effective method to do it. Worry not Sprig, for the answer lied in the wall of willy's boat house.
"Willy, I know I shouldn't question your skills and all, but..." Sprig halted his sentence while exhaling and stretching his arms, "...why don't we try using a net like the one on your boat house?"
Willy saw the net Sprig was referring to, "Well, we have a good reason for that. You want to try to find out?"
In an instant, Sprig's curiosity skyrocketed. So, Willy was indeed well aware of owning a giant fishing net. Then what's really stopping him, or even Sprig from using it? Willy's answer was taken through bluff, Sprig detached the net from the wall, and tried searching for the spot with the most fish around the harbour.
One throw of the net was all it took to prove The Fisherman's point
This time, Sprig had to base this particular fishing practice around chances more than regular fishing, for he was unable to monitor the completely-submerged net. Believing it to be a huge catch by the ever-increasing weight of the net, Sprig tried retrieving his catch back to the quay once it reached enough mass.
Trash, they were all trash, and they were somewhat varied too. There were broken CDs, some driftwoods, broken glasses, and a- a Joja cola? Wait no, it's an expired Joja cola. Ah, there were no better times to quit supporting the Joja company than these days. They literally dumped their unsold expired beverages to the ocean, even coffee pods aren't as wasteful, taste's still good though for an expired fizzy drink.
"Yep, unless we're in the open ocean, it's practically impossible to fish with a net," Willy explained, dismissing the part where Sprig drank an entire can of Joja cola taken from the ocean to have a taste. "Speaking of which, it's almost noon, it's time to manage me shop for the day. Feel free to use the net as long as you wish, if you're lucky that is. On the condition you place it back where it belongs before ya leave."
"No thank you, Willy. You've proved your point, I think I'll do that now." Sprig didn't realize how bad the town's water pollution issue was until today. Worst of all, there was nothing anyone could do here since those trashes came from the neighboring Zuzu City.
The Fisherman took some steps behind and flipped the sign on his boat house from 'closed' to 'open'. Sprig tied his three Fishes together in order to carry them more easily. The last matter he must attend before leaving was to return Willy back his fishing rod.
"Oh no, you keep it, I still have many more of those. Besides, 'tis important to me that the art o' fishing stays alive."
Which wasn't the case, since Sprig was actually preferred if he could entrust Willy to store the fishing rod, therefore not having the need to carry it everywhere he went. That said, Sprig couldn't pass the offer that Willy was nice enough to give him a fishing rod for free, refusing it would equal to spitting on the man's kindness.
Accepting the gift, Sprig proceeded to make his way out of the harbour, except when something had abruptly made him to halt his pace. That's right, he hadn't said goodbye to Willy yet, but actually it was because had a plan to explore the cindersap forest today, he couldn't bring these these fishes unless he planned on creating a campfire later on to barbecue them.
"Uh, Willy? where do I store these fishes?" Sprig assessed the situation.
"Well, ya could sell them to me, they are your catch afterall,"
"No, I need these for my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I mean, where do I store them now? the farm is on another side of town."
Willy didn't expect such issue to persists following his invitation to come over. He was stuck there staring at the farmer, figuring out a solution. Alas, every available options would simply led to a dead end, no way around. "I'm sorry, kid, there's little I can do to alter this. I would happily offer to store them in my boat house, but I'm too afraid if gets mixed alongside my other deliveries." Willy had no choice to imform the truth.
"Alright then, I guess I can bring them home. Stopping everything I was planning to do for the day before I could put these away, I can't go running around town while carrying a string of fish, the smell will prevent the entire town from getting near me," Sprig stopped, realizing how narcissistic and whiny he sounded, "Apologies, Willy. It's just that... look at Elliott, he doesn't need to worry about this because his house is right next to the beach."
Willy, the ever-wise and calming fisherman he was, replied back, "Don't be like that, kid. Any farmer would be lucky to have a beach this close to their farm. If that meant going back and fourth between here and your farm, I would suggest you get yourself something to keep your goods organzied next to your fishing bounties of the day."
Right, the red outdoor designer backpack at Pierre's, history sure did like to repeat itself. Now he really needed to have it in his hands. Complement-wise, Pelican Town itself was lucky to be built near a beach, truly any day off work could be considered a vacation day here. Sprig didn't have time for this, he had plans today. Last time, he had to carry 10 packets of potato seeds going to Robin's house, the saloon, and the graveyard. If he moved now, he could have enough time to visit the entire Cindersap forest, Sprig acknowledged Willy's advice and proceeded to take his leave.
Noon had set in, life in Pelican Town differed greatly to what Sprig initially saw in the morning; people passing by, talking with each other, relaxing in benches. Several new faces were there, a young woman with brown 50s short curly-locked hair wearing a yellow button-up blouse and brown skirt was seen walking alongside two kids to the library, the Pelican Town's mustached doctor supporting a glasses and donning clean a tie-draped shirt underneath his green blazer was preparing the clinic's opening hours.
Other than them, he saw the usual suspects; Lewis watering his home garden, Caroline relaxing below a tree, Maru reading a newspaper, "Hey, Sprig. Going somewhere?" and greeted Sprig as he passed by.
"Yeah, I need to go to the farm and store these," The farmer pointed at the three stringed fishes he was holding. He made sure Maru knew he was in a hurry, not willing to risk spreading the foul stench.
Since he was heading home anyway, Sprig decide to take a slightly different path where he went towards the right-side of the Stardrop Saloon, and passed beside Lewis' house. Looking around along this path, there was no sign the infamous 'Marlon with an eyepatch'. Of course not, it wouldn't make sense considering the adventurer guild's whole secretive spiel. No sign of Abigail too, perhaps spotting her around the main square during these hours wouldn't be weird or unexpected enough.
Yes, unexpected, "Ugh watch out where you're going, I recently had these changed after my workout, I'd prefer if it doesn't end up smelling like fish," like the stranger Sprig had almost accidentally hit when he was too focused searching for two mysterious people.
Adjusting the output from the impact, Sprig set his attention towards whoever it was he hit. Let's see, short brown spiky hair, a green letterman jacket, jeans, sneakers, and a muscular physique. Oh crap, this guy's a typical-class 90s high school movie jock, guaranteed to bully everyone who came across their way, especially a newcomer like Sprig. Fortunately, he said it 'almost' happened, the fish never hit him.
Still, to avoid getting picked on, Sprig did what any high schoolers would do in the same situation, "I'm sorry I'm sorry please don't hurt me, these fishes are all I have," he pleaded like a little wimp.
"What dude, I'm not gonna hurt you just because you nearly stain my shirt," that wasn't the response Sprig expected, must be from the pleading.
Maybe ask him again to clarify, "Okay, so we're cool?"
"Yeah we're cool," The presumed jock answered, that was on top of clarifying something else himself "Wait, do you really think I am going to hurt you because I'm dressed like a jock, have the physique of a jock, and was indeed, a jock back in my high school?" He shot Sprig a suspicious glare.
Damn it, if he turned out to be someone Sprig wasn't expecting him to be, then things were definitely going to get worse, a lot worse. Quick, think of something to ease the tension before it's too late, "Pffft what, of course not, that's ridiculous, I'm ridiculous."
"You did, did you?" He was now onto Sprig.
"No no no it's not like that."
It was definitely like that. Too late to beg for forgiveness now, there were nowhere to escape, mentally speaking. The sweats in Sprig's face could be almost be seen from afar, begging the lord this first impression won't turn out as bad as yesterday with Shane.
"Sigh. Look just because I look like this doesn't mean I am a jock, and just because someone's a jock doesn't mean they are all bullies who preyed on the weak. Who are you to judge? You're stranger here uh..."
"Sprig," the farmer went straight to the point, afraid he might screw up by saying anything else.
"Sprig, so you're the new guy, huh? You can't try judging someone when you first met them." He advised. At least he was nice enough to ask for Sprig's name.
Apperently, their little argument had caused two other person to partake in the discourse. Behind the falsely-judged jock, spawned a sweet old lady accompanied by a mobility-impaired old man sitting in a wheelchair who possibly had the grumpiest expression carved in his face.
"Alex dear, what is going on here," the old woman spoke, revealing the man's name to be Alex.
"Nothing grandma, I am only introducing myself to the new farmer in town," He excused the tension at hand.
"Why, hello and welcome to our little community, dear. You can call me 'Granny' if you like," the old lady introduced herself.
"Hmmph... It's irritating to have to meet all these new people, huh? Name's George, by the way." the old man followed.
Oh lord, this so-called 'Alex' were living beside and taking care both of his grandparents. Yep, Sprig might kill himself for going so low as to judge him as a two-dimensional 90s high school bully.
"Nice to meet you Evelyn and George, I'm Sprig. I apologise I can't shake your hands right now, my hands are still dirty from the fish I am carrying."
"That is fine, dearie. You seem to have quite the catch today. Has Willy given you fishing tips? He's hailed as our town's finest angler, you see."
Alex stayed muted during the entire greeting, both in respect of Evelyn talking, and in disrespect of the farmer. He had his arms folded, and a plain look set into the unfolding scene like he didn't care anymore.
"Indeed, we were fishing together at the docks this morning. He has been a great teacher."
"I am glad to hear that. George and I have never been close to Willy, for we sadly aren't fond of fishing. It's simply not our cup of tea, but I can perceive the delight it offers to those who've tried their hand at it. Despite it is beyond my taste, I understand you should preserve them before they go bad, dear."
For the first time in a while, George finally let out a comment, "Buzz off sonny, keep them fishes away from me," an unpleasant one at that.
"George, be nice, this young man is a newcomer. Apologies, George isn't in his best mood when he's around fishes. Perhaps I should take him home. It was a pleasure to meet you, dearie. Do come and visit anytime you wish, our house is always welcome."
Old grumpy George wasted no time leaving the scene, he rolled his wheelchair towards the house located behind him, signaling that the house on the right side of the saloon was clearly Alex's. He loomed over at the front door, waiting as Evelyn was having a word with her grandson.
"Alex,"
"Yes, Grandma?"
"Please be nice to the new farmer. Let's aim to make a positive impression on our guests, shall we?" Evelyn advised her grandson, Alex gave her a nod in reply, and she continued joining her husband afterwards.
Ouch, right in the soft spot. The irony was reaching unprecedented levels, who would have guessed sweet granny Evelyn were the one who threw the most painful appraisal. Alex checked on his house, making sure both of them had entered and left the scene entirely.
When his face returned to face the farmer, his expression had turned from a plain slate to straight up disappointment, "y'know, Sprig, we could've been good friends. My grandma seemed to like you, and you could introduce me to fishing since I am always looking to try new sports."
"I'm sorry, I got carried away. Your outfit really seemed to give me the wrong impression, you look exactly like a typical jock-bully from head to toe."
"Do I?" Alex began increasing his tone, "Tell me, farmer. Did you ever get bullied by someone looking like this during high school? Are your past so traumatising that you are afraid of guys wearing letterman jackets and having muscles all over? Or is it just something you see in popular movies and novels?"
"No, you're right. I never even got bullied in any way in high school. It's just what popular movies and novels depicted it to be."
"That's what I thought. I respect the apology, but I can't accept it now. I'll forgive you when I feel like it. Now goodbye," Alex walked away, apperently just for the act of it as it look like he didn't know where to go.
Thank you, pop culture, thank you so much for depicting guys in sports jackets as cold-hearted bullies. Sprig better leave the area now to give back the sportsman his initial space. The farmer headed home in defeat, this was the second person perceiving him through an awful first impression. Worse, it was Sprig's own fault, or more likely pop culture's fault in creating those stereotypes. From this day forward, Sprig swore to never judge anyone solely by first impression ever again, no matter how obvious their looks perceived them to be.
As Sprig reached his destination, he invested some time to check on his parsnips and potatoes. Every plant seemed fine and healthy, no sign of wild pests so far, or any parasitic organism. He was one day away from harvesting those parsnips, how exciting, it felt like having the power to control one's payday.
Despite his last clearing attempt during his first day, many small boulders, wild weeds, and piles upon piles of branches were still detected, an easy invitation for attracting pests. Despite those discrepancies were far from touching the crops, one could never be too careful, and given his current dirty state, he might as well commit further right in the heat of noon. Sprig went inside the house and traded his string of fish with his set of farming tools, preserving the fish utilizing the salt's affordable and convenient usage according to Evelyn.
THWACK, THWACK, THWACK...
Five branches, six branches, seven branches.
KLANG, KLANG, KLANG...
fifteen boulders, sixteen boulders, seventeen boulders.
SLASH, SLASH...
nine weeds, ten weeds.
Phew, it's done, no pest could ruin the farm now that everything surrounding it was pretty much barren. Best of all, he could utilize the resources produced by those hazards, and all it took was an hour of manual labor below the burning sun, at the start of spring. Therefore, no matter how scorching the temperature felt today, it wouldn't hold a candle to what awaited in summer. Nothing like an Australian akubra hat to accompany a farmer working in the summer, Sprig thought of adding it in his spring shopping list.
Alright, now time for a nice, cold, refreshing shower past noon. He must admit, this morning's fishing session might have stretched out longer than planned. No one could blame Sprig, it was his first time fishing, plus Elliott and Willy stole the whole show. Along with the physical recharge, the shower felt mentally refreshing too. Long had Sprig experienced a cold shower in noon, the days of working at Joja had limit him to do so in the morning or evening. Finishing the shower, a sight of several dirty clothes caught Sprig's eye including the one he had dismissed earlier, he absolutely needed to wash those if he intended to continue living in Pelican Town. Four clean shirts, and two trousers were all that remained, they would have to do.
Sprig went outside the house, journal at hand, and clean as a whistle. There was a force of uncertainty temporarily preventing him to make his journey, a choice of whether he should visit the Cindersap forest, or the library and research center. At times like this, the most sensible approach were...
Heads - Library
Tails - Cindersap forest
flip
Tails, Cindersap forest it would be.
The day sets on the afternoon, Sprig was passing the bus station between his farm and the main square. Not much changed from what he witnessed during high noon, Alex was standing in the same location practicing some grid ball tricks, Marnie the rancher had just come out from Pierre's store carrying some groceries, and surprisingly Sebastian who was chilling in the side of a bridge.
How Sprig wished having someone called out to him and stopping his tracks, extra credit if it was someone unfamiliar. There would always be tomorrow to look forward to, not like there was urgency on the matter anyway. If someone were to struck a conversation with him along the way, great. If not, then continue the adventure. It was the main plan from the start after all, was it not?
"You should come by at my place tomorrow as well,"
Because of course there was an invitation from the girl in red last night at the Saloon. Sprig was so close if it weren't for the happy-go-lucky Emily inviting him over, a price to pay for making that 'random interaction' wish in the first place. Emily's house was located in the southwest of Pelican Town, particularly near the entrance of the forest. He could have sworn the forest spirits were mocking him on his arrival, if such a thing existed.
Sprig skimmed through his outfit, making sure he was well-dressed before knocking on the door.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK
"Yes?" Someone answered. A woman featuring a long braided brown hair wearing a purple sweater greeted him in curiosity, it was their first time meeting.
Straight away, an introduction was in order, "I am looking for Emily, is she here?" Sprig started by stating his purpose.
"Apologies dear, Emily lives next door," she pointed towards the house on her left
"Very well, thanks for the tip um- miss..."
"Jodi, and you must be sprig. You aren't exactly how I imagined... but that's okay! Caroline told me about you."
"She did?" Sprig asked, unsure if it meant Pierre's wife had thought positively or negatively of him.
"Yes, she said you have been such a welcoming customer in her husband's general store," Jodi clarified the good news, thank God.
"Thanks for mentioning it, Jodi. And yes, as a farmer, it's a priority to maintain a good relationship with Pierre since his general store was the only place that sells crop seeds around here."
Jodi raised an eyebrow, "If I may clarify, farmer Sprig, Pelican Town does also have a Joja mart, you could check if the crop seeds you referred to are also available for purchase there, presumably for an even cheaper price."
Freakin' Joja, Sprig initially deemed they possessed an irrelevant presence, but He never knew their sphere of corporate influence could somehow touched his farm-related needs. He had seen what they did, the over-processed aspects of their consumable goods, the corners they had to cut to obtain the cheapest price possible, including cutting the farmer's own monthly salary during his Joja employment. Oh how he cursed whatever over-processed farming seeds they sold there, Jodi's decision to choose Joja mart over her town's own general store had proven the ultimate factor had always been who offers the best prices for everyday essentials regardless of quality, but Sprig couldn't possibly say that out loud.
"The cheaper price does sound tempting; I do appreciate them for offering it in Pelican Town," Sprig expressed positively while conveying no interest of shopping there to keep his side neutral.
"Indeed, it's hard to pass for a mother with two mouths to feed. I run a household of three, you see, four when my husband returned from his military tour. Though, I can't promise the price is available for everyone, considering the discounted rate I received was likely due to my son's employment there."
"Your son works at the Joja mart?"
"Sam works there every Monday and Wednesday. His shift was supposed to end sometime ago, and he should be on his way home by now if you wish to meet him."
"I can wait here. and the other?"
"Vincent should be having his daily learning session in the library. He'll be done in about 20 minutes,"
"I see,"
He must be the kid who was walking beside that lady alongside the young girl. As for this Sam, the main aspect piquing Sprig's interest for now was of his experience working for Joja. Granted, comparing an office worker to a supermarket employee might be too unfair despite the curiosity.
"There he is," Sprig turned towards where Jodi was pointing at.
A young man was approaching them in his skateboard while listening a tune in his earphones, he was wearing a denim jacket and had an unusually tall spiky blonde mullet like some sort of anime protagonist. He performed an ollie to disembark once he reached a close enough proximity.
"Hey, I'm Sam. Good to meet you."
"Sprig. And I must say, that's a nice trick," the young farmer praised.
"Thank you, I've been doing it since I was a kid. I haven't seen you around here before, Sprig."
"I can say the same,"
Seeing her son had arrived home while evening was on its way, Jodi attempted exiting the frame, "Excuse myself, Sprig. I should go inside, it's currently time to prepare dinner. Meanwhile, how about you two to know each other a little better?"
"Sure, Mom. I'll be in when Vincent's here," Sam replied as Jodi went inside, he proceeded to continue the discussion according to his mother's request, "So, what brings you here?"
"Mayor Lewis had offered me to take over my grandpa's farm after he passed away. I couldn't refuse it, knowing this is technically his inheritance to me. Thus, I came to Pelican Town right away and establish my role as a farmer,"
"No, not that, everyone already knew about it when he announced we're going to have a new farmer, no offense. I meant what brings you to my house?" Sam clarified.
"Ah see, the saloon's barmaid, Emily, had invited me to come over. When I arrived, I found out she actually lives next door, and that's how I got to this point,"
"Aw man, I would've ask the same thing if we met yesterday. The Saloon generally isn't my go-to place for hangover. Doesn't mean I've never step foot inside; I still go there occasionally every- um..."
"Friday evening?"
"How did you know?" Sam wondered.
"That's what Emily told me last time, said that's the day when the saloon is at its liveliest,"
"Sorry, even I forget about it sometimes, it's kind of embarrassing. But yeah, she's right, Fridays are when Seb, Abby, and I usually hang out in the Saloon. The rest mostly takes place on our houses," Sam revealed his schedule.
"You hung out alongside Sebastian and Abigail?" Sprig asked, making sure if he didn't mishear anything.
"Almost every day, have you met them?" Sam clarified.
"Uh huh, yeah... I have actually, yesterday,"
"Ooh, they're awesome right?"
Such revelation it had been, this guy, the friendly skateboarder who lives next door who sported a light-colored anime-style hair, was friends with Sebastian the emo-looking guy, and the mysterious Abigail. It was a case worth investigating, on what kind of unseen force could bound them together, or they merely just share a common interest Sprig hadn't known about.
"I agree they are pretty cool," Sprig answered safely.
His reply had triggered Sam's face to light up in positive energy, his grin could be witnessed from miles away, "Hey, you should join us sometime, Sprig. We're always looking to find a fourth member in our gang, you can trust having a worthwhile leisure time in our hangover. We do tons of fun stuffs, playing video games, going for a round of pool in the saloon, have a prank war, gasp we can hang out in your farm."
"Heh, that's not a bad idea, actually, I'm down with being a fourth member," Sprig admitted. It appeared these three people really knew how to utilize their hangover to the max, despite him remembering Sebastian's words about already having a solid crew. Case closed then, and in less than a minute too, Sam had revealed every crucial clue in a single sentence. "I need to make an exception for my farm, though. It's currently a rat's nest, not in a literal way."
"That's okay, we still have many options in mind. I'll ask if whether Seb and Abby agree to include you in our next hangover later on."
Guess that explained why Abigail wanted to Sprig to join her in the graveyard last night. It did baffle him a little thinking he could be the fourth member, in a place where Alex and Maru also resided who were more likely to be Sam's friends compared to Abigail and Sebastian. Either there was an awful history between them, or they have a different gang of their own. However, knowing how his previous experience with Alex had turned out, Sprig believed it might be best to keep it for himself.
"Thanks, Sam. I'll be waiting for your invitation. Have you already considered somewhere fun to go in mind?"
"Nah, screw planning, we generally pick locations randomly on wherever we feel like going that day,"
"What about today?" Sprig asked. Because why not? exploring the Cindersap forest was on his to do list, doing so alongside a company would be such a treat, all he needed now were Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian's agreement.
"No, not today, Abby and Seb said they're busy."
"Understandable. I did have an idea of exploring the Cindersap Forest today if you guys are available, it was going to be my first time there." Sprig revealed, not that it mattered anymore.
"Why not tomorrow? We can manage it."
Sprig shook his head. "I can't, I'm planning on heading there today regardless since tomorrow's the day of harvest, which means I gotta continue on my study of my grandfather's journal, I should be able to understand what he meant on the first chapter once those crops are in my hands,"
"Well then, if that's the situation, I can only wish you the best of luck on your exploration. Hope you come across anything unusual, Sprig. I know I haven't, or have I? I don't know, I forgot."
Yes, unusual like Abigail. How could he forget about her? Sprig could, until Sam kept triggering the memories back by constantly mentioning her, especially the last part.
"That reminds me, Sam. Can I ask something about Abby?"
"Yeah, ask away,"
"So, when I met her the other day, she said she often came to weird places a lot. What did she mean by that?" Sprig exclaimed, not including the details on how they first met on the graveyard.
"That, my dude, was Abby. She's like the most active girl in Pelican Town, spending plenty of time outside, going on adventures. One time, she made an excuse for being late to one of our weekly get-togethers, and once she arrived, Seb and I saw she brought some kind of ancient helmet, said to be taken from near the mines," Sam shared his experience.
"Dang, Abby be thrill-seeking as a Tomb Raider, why didn't you and Sebastian join her?"
"Because, Sprig, me and Seb have less free time than her since two of us have jobs, which honestly made me a little jealous. I'm guessing my mum already told you I work at the local Joja mart."
"She did say you only go there every Monday and Wednesday, what about Seb?"
"I don't know, actually. He often said he's doing this thing called 'digital freelancing', I have no idea what it means,"
Sebastian, a digital freelancer? Wow, Robin and Demetrius sure had their clever descendants. If only Sebastian said so yesterday, considering Sprig's employment background, they would have so much to talk about. Oh wait, that was meant to be the opposite of what the emo's trying to avoid. Asking Sam was off limits, seeing as he didn't understand piss about it, and explaining the whole freelancing ordeal to him would take them until tomorrow.
What Sprig could ask instead was that of Sam's Joja gig, he assumed they had reached a point where the following question was safe to ask. "And you, Sam? How's your time in Joja mart?"
"Nothing too fancy, just the everyday responsibilities of a store employee; stocking shelves, monitoring inventories, and keeping the store clean. It's been a great gig overall because Mr. Morris, such a great boss."
"Really?" Sprig hoped Sam would elaborate, precisely on what kind of evil mind tricks this corporate Morris guy was playing with a poor soul like him.
"Yeah, he allowed me to go home early, he gave me and my mom a Joja membership for free, and he even gifted me this sweet Walkman, because I wasn't allowed to bring my own," Sam admired, showing off a Joja membership card from his pocket and a blue Joja-branded Walkman hidden beneath his jacket.
Sprig felt his jaw reaching the floor, his eyes pried wide, and his hand grasping his forehead. This was the same company that cut his paycheck, practiced corporate slavery, brainwashed the media into thinking they are the best corporation ever, and had driven one of their office staffs working to literal death. Why even bother working at Joja's business office anymore if their store employees received the best privilege.
At this point, Sprig felt his senses started disappearing, "Glad to hear, sounds like a steady job that gives their employees more privilege, and definitely not a way of tricking hires to view them as a humble company," shaken words were capable of escaping his mouth unconsciously, he didn't know what to believe anymore.
"Okay?" Sam replied, without any form of suspicions, for what the farmer said was beyond his understanding.
Their conversation had crashed into a dead end, Sprig's brain was preoccupied by the constant thoughts of comparing Sam's job against his, and Sam couldn't help thinking how it went this way. The problem became too uncomfortable for both sides. The solution? End it, Sam.
"Ah, look at the time, it's almost evening. How's around you start that cindersap exploration of yours, eh Sprig? Besides, Vincent is almost home, Mom's gonna ask me to come inside soon,"
"Huh? oh yeah. Sorry, I was zoning out. To be clear, I never saw a company facilitate their employees in such a way, you're lucky to be working there, Sam," Sprig explained. He told the truth, partially. This was a bigger mystery compared to the adventurer's guild, no man should consider themselves lucky under the watchful eyes of evil Joja.
As said by Charles Baudelaire: "The finest trick of Bobby Kotick is to persuade you that implementing pay-to-win loot boxes is an ethical act." or was it something about the devil?
"It's fine," Sam assured, feeling more relaxed in the end.
In the pursuit of the setting sun, the two finally parted ways in their long discussion. Sprig sets his gaze on the nearby path into the forest, while Sam must remain there to wait for his little brother.
"Alright, I suppose I'll catch you later, Sprig. Don't forget, you're welcome if you want to chill with me, Abby, and Seb. I'll let you know when that happens, or you can visit one of us before 3pm to find out sooner."
It was the last he heard of the skateboarder on this day. Sprig gave a short wave, Sam witnessed the farmer initiated his advance towards the entry path, which was surprisingly sparse in natural elements.
In a short walk, a huge ranch was sighted on the right, Marnie's ranch to be more precise. Having possibly a complete collection of livestock; it had cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, ducks. They were displayed on a wide corral located beside the main building. Oof, Sprig couldn't blame Marnie for going to the saloon every night, and he thought farming takes a lot of responsibility.
On the left, there stood a lonely stylish cottage. It appeared very mediaeval-esque, additionally giving on-lookers some natural vibes, almost resembling a house from the Shire in certain a fantasy book Sprig forgot the name of. Whoever lived there must be blessed for residing in the most interesting-looking house in Pelican Town, located in the most beautiful area, and a riverside view complementing the scenery in front of the house.
Continuing the walk, he found out an unforeseen truth, as everything he thought the Cindersap forest would be akin to were immediately proven false.
"Holy- What am I seeing?" Sprig commented in awestruck.
The forest itself, was far from a forest. The way every environmental component was arranged resembled more of a grassland than a forest, lacking floras nor faunas, yet it didn't present a trace of manmade origins. The panoramic landscape was so clear that a huge lake, normally out of sight in a typical woodland area, came visible from afar where the farmer was standing. The best part? Witnessing the late-evening sunset painted in the sky, slowly reducing the light contrast over the surrounding area.
Sprig had no reason for being surprised, he should have better foresight, the clues were written on the wall the whole damn time. No way Marnie would be able to get a sight of the mysterious tower if the forest was dense as a thicket.
The tower's silhouette loomed majestically far and high at the corner of the forest, behind the setting sun. The clock was ticking for the farmer to go there before darkness set in, a time where creatures of the night came out hunting their next preys, kidnapping children, bringing death and diseases to the innocence, or Sprig merely watched too many monster movies for having those thoughts.
Sprig sprinted away, er- towards the mystery. His stride across the wide grassland into the tower was possibly the most relaxing thing he had ever experienced since arriving in Pelican Town, even beating his own farm's lifelessness, decorated by the orange evening light and the peaceful symphony of silence from the absence of wildlife. It left the remaining sound of the whispering wind gently rustling through the grass and leaves.
"This, this right here, is what I call breathtaking."
The once far away lake sprawling at the heart of the forest, was now projecting a reflection of Sprig's running figure as he navigated along the midpoint of the northern lakeside, where he passed in-between the shore end of a fishing dock on his left and an old tree swing on his right.
At the time he reached the end of his crossing, the tower became visible, revealing its position firmly anchored on the edge of a hill spanning broadly in a horizontal direction. It made Marnie's issue more obvious, given the building's ever-appealing conspicuousness due to its elevated position. Anyone living on that ranch close to the forest entry shouldn't be able to miss the sight of a mysterious tower watching them from the far corner of the area, even with the huge lake and grass field separating them apart.
Sprig paced round and round, aiming to find a slope or an entry leading into the top of the hill. He went right and found a huge stack of broken-down trees, a pointless dead end. He went left and guided by the length of hill's spanning ridge, found an emerging staircase connecting the saddle it extended from, right toward the entrance of the tower, yeah awesome.
The moment Sprig stood in front of the door overlooking the terrain below, the vast meadow, the ranch, the scattered trees, and every other eye-catching element he previously encountered, were no longer visible in the darkness of night. The moon itself hadn't reached enough height to cast its light.
Sprig took a deep breath; he laid a fist at the door.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
Nothing. He repeated the same actions, hitting the same melody.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
The same futile result.
Best if he tried investigating the entrance for the time being in search of a clue, anything that could identify whoever lived here, whether abandoned or inhabited. The door held a medieval style to it, there was no address within the area, no lanterns or light sources nearby, no sign if footsteps on the ground, and no hidden emergency keys left by the resident.
Sprig gave it another try. This time while planting an ear at the door.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
Silence. Not a single decibel of sound emitted behind the door.
Sprig had almost run out of ideas, on the increasing urge to return back home, the remaining hope lied on the window panel at the door, meaning it was time to cater his approach from an auditorial to a visual one.
He took a long peek inside, darkness, it greeted him with total darkness, like getting stuck in limbo and forced to stare into nothingness. A windowpane covered in paint would grant a more visible view than this. The impossible wish revolved around praying the Lord for a flashlight at this exact time and place. Sprig received a small regret concerning his impatience to check the mysterious tower today.
Finding nothing relatively unusual as how Sam called it, Sprig started undergoing the process of believing what the alcoholic Shane said to his aunt. If it was true and this place truly stood as merely an old, abandoned tower, then barging in shouldn't be a problem.
Should he barge in? Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?
But what if there was a trap inside?
Then no, too risky. Other than a chance to fell into a house trap, Sprig also didn't think Marnie would be someone who supported trespassing private properties in exchange of one reassuring information.
How about smashing the windowpane with a stone?
Sprig had every right to do so, it could work, currently the safest option available. Surely, this might set off any trap inside while being in a safe distance. The stones he found on the hill offered such option in a great selection of size and shape.
Sprig set his throwing angle, 1...2...3...Launch,
CRASH
The shattering glass echoed through the hill, no doubt the output should have attracted the attention of any passing onlookers, and especially of this tower's resident. Sprig had concluded, no man would ignore what he did unless they were okay letting their house be raided.
Now what?
Look inside of course, not like it changed the darkness still covering the internals of the tower. Just in case the interior wasn't featuring a well-hidden trapdoor or floor trap, Sprig picked up a second stone and tossed it through the shattered windowpane.
THUNK
Thank God there were no traps inside. Ultimately, it meant nothing unusual or strange had showed up thus far. Yep, Sprig felt convinced that Marnie's nephew was right all along. Still, it might be nice to have a flashlight right about now, or something useful to illuminate what lied behind the door through its windowpane.
Other than his unattainable yearning, Sprig's options had pretty much run out; trespassing inside was off the table for possibly outputting trust issues, no way of threatening the residents to come out because of their absence and by the lack of threatening weapons.
What about climbing the tower? There might be a window somewhere.
Which summed up why Sprig didn't try it; he might find a window to enter because the night didn't even let him investigate the tower's external structure in great detail, far from guaranteed win. Plus, the climbing gears necessary for it existed as much as the tower's own residence and a reachable window on the tower's lower level. Plus plus, the moss in the cobblestone, they should already be a reminder not to scale the structure in fear of paying the price, for medical treatment, due to broken bones from accidentally slipping away mid climb.
Those were the last observable points; at least Sprig became more aware of what to expect when returning back here with a flashlight, a scary weapon, and a proper climbing gear that wouldn't succumb to the slippery moss.
Home awaits, dear farmer. He must go back.
Sprig got himself back to where he originated, navigating in the same path previously taken for getting here, descending the stairs into the hill saddle, crossing the lake once more, he slowed his pace in-between the tree swing and the dock at the midpoint of the lake's edges to admire the surrounding view. This time, the beautiful moon casted its reflection at the water's surface, the stillness of the lake had made the encounter more surreal, resembling something of a portal into the celestial realm beneath.
Yet again, the soothing sensation of the silent grassland greeted Sprig's short stroll, and the wind echoing a sound unchanged from what he heard during evening hours. Thereafter, it encouraged his eyesight to join tranquility state of his hearing upon the nonexistent sunlight. Strange there were no fireflies to be seen around. He kept on continuing before finally getting near the exit, indicated when he came across Marnie's ranch and that stylish medieval cottage located behind the other lake.
Traversing through the exiting path, Sprig had emerged out of the Cindersap forest entirely, and marked his position next to Sam and Emily's residence. Though their houses laid at a considerable distance from the main square, he could still make out the sight of most Pelican Town buildings, giving the idea on how the town measured up in size. Some light up while others stay dark, some generated chattering and television noises while others stayed quiet, their commonalities expressed by their aspects of being occupied, leaving the streets empty and devoid of life.
Except for one familiar person in red, Emily.
"Sprig?" With a loud call, she came into sight from the direction he was facing, appearing a bit dazed at the farmer.
"Heyy, Emily," Sprig sheepishly responded, in a positive way. He felt relieved knowing there was someone remained able to talk with in such late hours.
"I see you had undergone your 'full day of adventure across the valley'," Emily grinned casually, her complement referred to the location they met. She rested her index finger on her chin, putting together what he'd been up to, "Cindersap Forest?"
"Yeah. It was a nice stroll; breathtaking scenery, calming atmosphere, and the most open grassland I could stop by to run around and be free."
"Being calm and free is an essential sensation we should all experience, having a time to separate yourself from the immense burdens of the world, a way for the mind to have its meditation time," Emily trailed off, her pacing slowed down considerably in the middle sentence, as if she was demonstrating what she said. Consequently, it caused the farmer to do the same, where her words had overwhelmed him into hypnotic state. Fortunately, she quickly shook those thoughts away to resume their current matter, "Anyway, sounds like you were having a good time, Sprig. Give me the little details next time you visit the saloon, okay?"
"You got it, and I'll be waiting impatiently for my next visit," Sprig agreed.
"Speaking of which, has this phase of yours already over or..."
"Not yet I think I'm keeping it a little longer, more or less until I've delved into every part of the forest. Plus, I haven't had a chance to visit the library, or the mines up north yet."
"Ah, that's a shame then, means I can't see you at the saloon more often."
"It's a huge loss for me too, you know," Sprig showed his regards.
He loved going to the saloon, his take on socializing had always been on the neutral side, not too isolated and anti-social nor too outgoing and over-talkative, a man who simply chose to go to wherever the road took him. And it seemed as The Stardrop Saloon was the definitive place for it, from its colorful customers and constant liveliness. Hence, he was guaranteed to have a good time there.
Hearing Sprig's response showcasing a desire to socialize, though short it may be, Emily gave her appreciation, "If you say so, Sprig. Just try not to pass out on your outings, you gotta eat big to maintain your energy when venturing far like that,"
"Shoot," a swear escaped Sprig's mouth.
Emily realized what it meant, "You haven't eaten anything yet the entire day?"
"I had breakfast, that's it. Then I got completely distracted the moment I entered Cindersap Forest," Sprig admitted defeated.
He did informed Willy he was going to have the anchovy, herring, and flounder for either breakfast, lunch, or dinner, specifically tonight. Despite conflicting against Emily's advice, it genuinely impressed him how he managed to spend the entire day adventuring without eating.
"In that case, you wanna join us for dinner? I just finished my shift, and my invitation is still available,"
"Us?" Sprig noted.
"Me and my sister, silly. I told you I'm totally amped up for introducing you to her. Come on, it's the least I can do for not being your barmaid today."
Man, she really wanted Sprig to meet her sister, but why refuse out of concern for burdening the host? this was her request in retrospect. Besides, it was a win-win solution; establish a new acquaintance in the community, while catch-up on some mealtime. Of course, with proper guest manners.
"Alright, Emily, if you insist."
"Oh, how exciting! let's get inside then," Emily gestured him to follow.
The moment he entered, Sprig felt a similar novelty to when he visited Robin for the first time, a stranger in someone's personal space, he could feel the difference in comparison of going to a public place such as the general store.
The living room's design looked as normal as it could be. The usual suspects were there; a coffee table surrounded by a sofa and a wide couch, a living room computer next to a bookshelf, and a small globe seated over a table, no television though. Sprig was told to wait there, on the couch, while his host went checking on her sister. The wait had provided him time to observe around some more.
Located on the right-side of the living room was a surprisingly large kitchen and a cozy fireplace. There was an area extending from south of the kitchen, hosting a complete set of tailoring equipment, from a sewing machine, some outfit measuring tools, a box of fabric rolls, and several different-colored threads for dyeing. Finally, Sprig assumed the remaining rooms must have been Emily and her sister's room.
"Haley I- gasp, have you started dinner without me?"
"What? I'm starving and the food's getting cold."
"It's normal for salads to get cold,"
"Yeah, I've decided switching it for tomorrow's eggs and parsnip soup, so I just cooked that instead today."
"Haley, sigh, alright never mind. Just, look at who I brought."
That's the signal, Sprig began making his appearance from the living room. Soon enough, both him and his second host would simultaneously set their gazes upon each other, not in a good way.
Haley was a blonde beauty, in a sense that she was giving vibes of being stereotype number two, a 'peculiar' stereotype to be precise; the popular high school girl, the bourgeois class, the bratty rich daughter, queen bee, Sprig could go on and on. She wears a sky-blue summer tank top, and a pink midi skirt. Another unlikely siblings. Now this, this was certainly the more relatable duo. For one, Sprig could see the tighter bond they held compared to Maru and Sebastian, which resembled him and Polly's relationship more closely.
As much as he loathe the stereotypical vibes Haley was giving, Sprig must kept his judgement low on this one. Remember, last time he did the opposite with Alex, he instantly made an enemy, and established a promise to never repeat the same mistake ever again. A good start by saying "Hi, I'm Sprig, I believe we haven't met before. I appreciate your sister's request to invite me here, I hope I won't be a burden."
"Huh? Oh... I'm Haley. You know, if weren't for those horrendous clothes you might actually be cute."
"Okay?"
A weird welcome. Nevertheless, deterring the guest's confidence would require greater effort. Haley was probably trying to be humorous around her guest, yeah sounded about right. Because, unlike Demetrius, Emily didn't react one bit during her dinner preparation, she finished preparing the dishes and utensils over the table while holding the same enthusiastic face.
"Don't stand around, Sprig. Take a seat," Emily insisted.
"Have you even wash those farm smudges of yours before taking a seat here?"
The worried guest observed his attire. His shirt, shoes, trousers didn't pick up any dirt during his brief Cinders Forest journey, Sprig couldn't see the issue, "I think so, I haven't touch my farm since the last time I changed clothes."
"Well I don't see it. You better not linger here for too long, because as far as I know, you're staining our house," Haley Argued. It became clear, Sprig had made a mistake for setting his initial expectations higher.
Those words had cemented her true nature. Sheesh, at least Sebastian's er- 'edgy introvertness' made some effort, even when he was busy 'addressing his freelancing employee'. Heck, Shane's first words felt more reasonable with him being a loony drunk and all. Haley, on the other hand, managed living up to her snobby rich girl stereotype. Stupid promise, stupid overanalyzing stuff. Sprig gave up, he didn't know what's the correct moral around here anymore. Better if he contemplated responding back and just accept all the received insults than clashing against his confusion.
Emily decided to take preventive action, "Uhh, okay then. Let's dig in, shall we? Sorry the soup's already cold, Sprig. Here you go," she handed him a bowl.
Amidst the toast, Haley delivered her reaction, "I'm going to bed," by immediately disembarking from her seat.
"Now hold on there, Hay. I have promised Sprig I'd introduce him to you properly. That was barely anything," Emily addressed her sister's bitterness.
"Emily, what on earth are you thinking making promises like that? No, I'm not staying, I'm going in my room. Besides, I've eaten my portion of dinner,"
Emily knew it would all be over the moment her sister locked her bedroom door, and she was inches away from doing so. Sprig raised an eyebrow, perplexed why Emily's words somehow didn't match her smirking expression, she definitely had something in store.
"You still have your leftover muffin from yesterday," She pulled an ace up her sleeve.
"Ugh, fine." And came the bitter Haley, who reverted her steps under an irresistible temptation. Between her path, she grabbed a small pastry container from the fridge, slamming it hard against the dinner table.
Everyone had taken their seats, there was food along the table, and a hungry appetite. Thus, the dinner session shall commence. Haley didn't waste time munching her muffin like a late worker. Emily followed suit with her sister-made cold, seemingly thinly-textured parsnip soup. Truth be told, Sprig didn't find the dish promising at all. He took a spoonful and, no matter how it tastes, Sprig's remaining expectations had sunken, seeing the person behind the dish lowering her face down during the entire dinner. Good grief, at least have the common decency to face your own sister, what an entitled b-
"Oh, Oh wow," Sprig fully had his first taste.
"Something wrong Sprig?"
"Mmm, mmm. This, right here, is the best soup I've ever tasted. Man, Emily, if your sister's dish has always been as tasty as this, then you're so lucky to have her."
COUGH COUGH COUGH
Cue Haley's hitching gasps. To think, having a random person tasting her dish would grab her every attention as a chef. But no, Sprig found her doing the opposite was hilarious, and the choking part being a satisfying payback. Indeed, the sudden positive comment from the person she despised stunned her that much, it truly made her choke on muffins. However, In all seriousness, the balanced spices, the sparkling herbs, the garlic-flavored base, and the buttery parsnips, Sprig never tasted anything better.
"Aw, I'm glad you like it. Ya hear that, Hay? someone just praised your dish."
Haley's face didn't prop up one bit, no reply ever came, she continued eating her muffin in a slower pace after receiving the surprise. Her profound commitment to hold such disdain against Sprig was getting sad.
Emily eyed her sister. "Hello, aren't you gonna say something? a little thanks perhaps?"
"Thanks for the compliment, farm boy," She uttered coldly.
Well that was enough to get her talking. This marked the first time Sprig felt skeptical he would never fix a townsfolk's resentment against him. What a bummer, he really did enjoy Haley's cooking, curse her highly egotistical persona. There must be some way of diminishing the hate, where Sprig could limit asking help from someone like Emily and Marnie to communicate with their relatives, not soon, but perhaps overtime.
"...Start small, and learn the rest over time. It has been my learning motto since forever..."
Oh lord, Sprig realized he just quoted Demetrius of all people, the artificially-friendly host. Fine, at times like this, he couldn't see any other alternative options, the scientist's advice made the most logical sense. Let himself be welcomed by those who already accepted him, then slowly learn about what made their bitter relatives smile. Case in point, keep the dialogue momentum running, notably with Emily. What Sprig needed now was to bring a new discussion topic, easy peasy.
"I can't help but notice the huge tailoring section you guys have back there."
"Yep, we do share the same a love for fashion," Emily dropped her supper and stood up. "See this, Sprig? I didn't buy this dress, I tailored them myself. Fully custom-made, down to the colors and materials." she spun around as she showcased the design.
"It looked nice, really suits you perfectly. I mean that's the benefit of making something yourself, right? You can make something that fully fits your style, no compromises, no quality issues."
"Thanks. You'd be surprise how many prototypes I've gone through until I finally found the perfect one. For myself, of course."
"Really? What happened with the previous failed er- I mean, unsuitable prototypes?"
"Some never got made, while I gave the completed models away to my friend, Sandy, who lived outside of Pelican Town. She's a fashion retailer, so I trust those garments will find a more fitting wearer."
"A more fitting wearer, huh? Come to think of it, I never fully grasp what makes specific outfits more suitable for specific people. Like what's the measurement behind it?"
"Your overall body posture, the current fashion trend, or whatever your local customs wear, at least those are the measurements I often considered."
Haley swallowed her last bite. "Ok, I'm finished, I'm going to bed," Surprisingly, her table retained its cleanliness, as Haley ensured she would organize all her cutleries preceding her leave.
And suddenly, the unplanned dinner party was down one person. Haley performed a door slam following her fleeting stride, entirely sealing her availability from this point, and sparked a new discussion about her among the others, behind her stuck-up back.
SLAM
"What about her?" Sprig's question followed behind her door slam.
"You can imagine Haley's insecurity topping higher than all the other folks here combined. However, unlike her dear old sister, she preferred buying her clothes, specifically online, because Pelican Town only have me as their tailor," Emily gave a chuckle. "And I always ended up tweaking the dresses she ordered whenever she complained the design didn't favor her."
Fashion's passions, Sprig saw two sides of the same coin, one side being way more spoiled than the other. Although, he could spot Emily's tone certainly implying her positive view on the subject. First and foremost, the different approaches encouraged a mutual learning between them, constantly exchanging new knowledges, which unironically brought these two sisters closer together. It struck Sprig, as someone who lacked in the department, that maybe Haley's pesky perception seemed a bit sensible now, while Emily didn't consider it a major issue at all.
"Hmm, you don't suppose Haley thinks my clothes don't suit me, do you?"
"To be painfully honest, Sprig." Emily took a deep breath, "Yeah, there are certainly several rooms for improvement. Like, if you're tucking your shirt in, why not decorate your trousers with a belt? And instead of your khaki trousers, why not wear some rancher shorts? Or heck, something denim-related? It would fit your farm life and the season better. Oof, now I sounded like Haley."
"Eh, that bad huh? I genuinely need to reconsider some of my choices. You know, I was also considering to buy a slouched akubra hat for the summer, what do you think?"
"That right there, sounded more reasonable, maybe when worn inside your farm during summer. I actually adored old school Australian fashions, but slouch hats aren't something anyone often wear in public."
"Then, I guess I'm still set on buying it, that hat is calling my head's attention. Though, I do consider what you said about not wearing it in public. For real, I appreciate the feedback."
"Don't sweat it, farmer, I always enjoyed a good fashion commentary. Besides, I bet Haley's even gonna find your outback taste cute," Emily referenced her sister's first remark on the farmer.
The host took her last bite, she finished much later than Sprig, who enjoyed the parsnip soup so much, he didn't realize how quick he was essentially finishing the dish. The fashion-related talk was great, Sprig discovered the importance of the attire he wore. Shedding off the office employee life shouldn't mean skipping the polished attire. Well, not polished, more so something nice and appropriate. They ended the conversation precisely when needed, because the passing time didn't favor them at all.
"It's uh- currently 11pm, Emily."
"Right, right. You need your sleep to kickstart the freshest morning. We don't want you limping around the farm drowsily now, do we? But frankly, Sprig, a good sleep is a serious requirement for any physically-intensive work. Don't you forget that," Emily said as she tidied her bowls and cutleries, inserting them inside the dishwasher.
"I won't. If I did, I wouldn't remind you earlier," Sprig followed her steps, tidying his own table.
"True. Glad you're still keeping your schedule in check."
The tiredness grew more evident, Sprig felt it coercing through his eyes, his early slumber habit became responsible for it. Good thing his gradually fading vision served as a natural reminder, since time was quite a vulnerable commodity, an easily missable plot device of one's personal narrative. Sprig assumed it might be the reason why Emily kept bringing up this whole energy conservation affair.
"Well, Emily, thanks for the dinner invitation, it's been nice. And the parsnip soup? Again, can you tell Haley I really love it."
"No, Sprig, thank you for joining us. I hope we can give this another go someday. Trust me, the soup is more tasty when they're still hot,"
"I bet. But, now I'm interested in the other dishes your sister can cook," Sprig voiced his intrigue.
"Oh, you have no idea. They will definitely make you drool, especially her eggplant parmesan."
Sprig started carrying out his exit away from the dining room scene, passing the furnishings, and into the front door. Emily escorted her departing guest, as she must lock her house afterward.
"Sleep well, Sprig," Emily bid her farewell, she watched the farmer sequentially drifting his presence off her front porch. "And by the way, regarding the akubra hat, I can commission it for you if you want. That is, for a small fee," she reminded him of her sewing skills.
"I'll consider it. Good night."