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Fantasy The Crafters, and the Black Veil - IC

OOC
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Characters
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Lore
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Other
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Terrier B

Elephants can smell water.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
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MAP

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Locations of Note:

N - North
S - South
W - West
E - East
C - Central

Crafter Towns:

Trud - SE
Sparril - SE - A rather small primarily Fishing based town.
Last Beacon - SW - Aptly named. The Southernmost town, Crafter or otherwise, in all of Athelston.
Ashy End - SW - A very scenic farming Town. The views from the peninsula are beautiful.
Bargate - SC - A lively place. One of the largest of all the Crafter Towns.
Driftwood - EC - A Town that should be pretty, but has gradually become otherwise.
Gibbet - NE - A lumber town, it provides building materials to Cerebral cities.


Cerebral Towns:

Illumia - NW - Athelston's capital. The most densely populated city in the whole country.
Overing & Aurora - CC - Linked Cerebral Town that respectively operate and maintain the Toll Bridges onto Illumia Isle.
Orion - WC - A very pretty Hot-spot. Many of the wealthier Cerebrals own Summer Homes here.
Millifields - NE - A City that rests quietly on Feste Island, very pretty, a lot of the Cerebral creative types end up here sooner or later.
Balm - NC - A working sea port that's additionally trying to behave as if it's a Holiday resort town.

Extra Notes:

- I forgot to add one of those scale thingies, but the Western most point to the Eastern most point is about, 1000 miles Wide. And the Northern most point to the Southern most point is about 850 miles long.
- Just because some places on the Map appear seemingly empty, this may not be the case. There are various small villages, odd standalone houses and farms dotted all over the country. But the places that appear on the map are the most densely populated and relevant locations to our particular tale.
- There is further Land to the East of the Silver Pine Mountains, but (I'm too lazy to create lore for that too) it's not where our characters are gonna be going, therefore, it's just not that relevant currently? I have a feeling I'll flesh it out a bit as we go, but for know. All you need to know is that it's a generally warmer more Mediterranean-like country, and their leadership thinks the Cerebrals are stupid so they don't get mentioned a lot in Athelston.
- Crafters can and do live in Cerebral Towns and cities, they need maids, Aides and servants of course, but their dwelling will be lesser in every sense of the word.

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The Rules!


1) All RPN rules apply here!
Listen to 'em, obey 'em. Or else! ;0

2) I know things are a bit wild and up in the air at the moment with regards to peoples everyday lives and schedules, but if we can just keep posting relatively consistent with regards to timing that'd be swell. At least one a week will be more than fine for a minimum. But to keep things fun and inclusive for everyone, please be aware of other peoples tendencies with regards to when they post. If you want to keep something going with another currently active member (A conversation or encounter for example), maybe write it out in a private message or thread and then post the finished product so we're not clogging up the thread thank you 🌞

3) I'd appreciate at least one detailed paragraph per post for the bare minimum if that's alright, with anything longer than that being ultimately preferred. Of course length and content varies for a number of reasons, and it's fine if all you can do for the time being is just the one paragraph. So long as we don't have any one-liner, we're all good.

4) Usual rules with regards to god-modding apply here of course. Please don't put anything plot related that's particularly extravagant straight into the IC. Discuss and ask me directly or everyone else via the OOC first. I don't won't to discourage ideas or creativity here mind you, for I'd really like this to be a combined group effort sort of RP that we can all build upon. But it's just nice manners to ask people if you can, idk, explode a castle or something 🐝

5) I really don't want to sound too bossy with this one, so take it more as a strong piece of advice than a direct rule. But please please please be aware, all the main characters in this RP are effectively peasants. They come from the middle of nowhere-ville and have probably never even seen a city before. So have fun with that for once! Give me some interesting plain Janes, make me a fun sounding everyday Jim. Lets have a day off from super-powered supermodels and all that malarky.
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" A Day for Voss "

It was that night, they were all supposed to have the celebrations. Just makes sense really, leaves time for work to be done in the day. Mind you, he wasn't particularly looking forward to the morning after...​
It was a day that rolled around every year, as is oft the case for holidays, where the town of Trud specifically held a party of celebration and thanks to the good and great Seraph Voss. Garold couldn't help but wonder why they never turned up truth be told, maybe nobody had ever gotten around to sending them an actual invite. He heaved another heavy trunk onto the wagon as he thought this to himself. He often kept his own musings quiet, unless they were particularly good of course, then he undoubtedly let rip on the poor soul or object in question. But today, he was more muted than usual. Trud was, in every sense of the phrase, a hive of activity that day. All the little workers were buzzing about all over the damn place, rushing to get their jobs and chores done in time for the evening, excitement making all their little movements all wiry and swift. Twas a jolly, chirpy sort of atmosphere really. Nice, if you like that sort of thing. It just gave him a headache honestly...
His own family was particularly busy with regards to the holiday. The Souček's were tasked with assuring there'd be enough firewood for the nights festivities, for despite the onslaught of Spring, the weather had turned chilly as of late, and snow was expected sooner or later. Olga and Liev had busied themselves with making a few extra chairs and stools, just in case, and Sabs was off in the Coille, collecting kindling and a few other bits and pieces along the way. She was due to bring her first lot back to Daine before noon, with Bader too, for her sure as heck wasn't going to lug this old Lumber Wagon halfway through the town on his own. Oh, speak of the devil, there was Daine now. The man gave Garold a slight nod for a greeting, "Garold."
He returned the gesture, "Daine."
Casually, Daine leaned against the lumber wagon, "Seen Sabyne this morning then?"
Garold, frowned.​
"What?!"
Daine just looked at him. A altogether far too smug for his liking smile creeping across his face. Garold growled, pushed back against the wagon and stormed off towards the edge of the town,​
"DAMMIT SABYNE. NOT AGAIN."

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Sabyne had checked upon the old scorched grove that morning on her way in and through the Coille. That pesky Candle boy... Things were recovering there nicely enough now. It'd taken a while at first though, for the trees to take root again like. It's as if they knew they were being forced to settle for slightly tarnished earth. Always intrigued her how long the natural order of things sometimes took to resettle again after an upset. Seren's little scorching episode had happened years ago now. And yet the trees that had been replanted were still only up to about Sabyne's chest. Oh well, they'd get there eventually.​
She continued to venture further into the Coille. A good mile at least. She often went farther than any other Trud resident would dare to go, but she was always smart enough to know when too far was too far. Her whole family had worked these forests for years, in fact literally for millennia. But Sabyne couldn't help but feel they were always somehow her woods. She'd happily wager she knew them the best out of anyone else in the whole town. Mind you, she was quite good at wagering on things she thought she was good at. Her destination was definitely in the top ten of her favourite spots. It was a small quiet glade, clear enough of trees to provide adequate resting grounds for Bader, and more importantly, good practice grounds for her.​
Trying her darndest to get the sneak up on him, she suddenly emerged from behind a old trunk, "BAH!"
Bader, simply blinked at her.​
She groaned and leaned backwards against the bark dramatically, "Well of course it didn't make you jump, you were expecting it!" She frowned, squinting at him in what she hoped was a somewhat threatening way, "I'll get you next time..."
Sabyne began to rouse the horse up from his resting spot, chiding him on as she went, "Come on Bader! Come on, we've gotta go! Come on, Let's go, Come on Bady!". If a horse was capable of feeling reluctance, then Bader was definitely feeling it. Dragging his hoofs as much as he could, he gradually tore himself up and off of the ground. Sabyne had gone to grab, of all things, a very well hidden stick. It was hidden because it was such a fine specimen you see. Just the right size for her, felt right in her hands, on the exact right balance between hefty and light. These are all things she told herself at least. But, between you me, it was a stick. She had tried to chisel one end of it down into a bit of a point, but her old little whittling knife had ultimately struggled with the task.​
Stick now in hand, Sabyne stopped, stood in front of Bader. She planted her feet firmly in the ground, took a deep, slow and steadying breath. And then began to do what I can only describe as 'Vague weapon-play'. It was too sporadic and amateur to even call it specifically either 'Sword-play' or even 'Spear-play', it was just, simply, an attempt at a odd combination of the two. She thrashed the stick wildly here and there, swatted with decent force at invisible enemies. The result ended up looking just a bit silly, but at least nobody was there to see it I suppose. Bader, good boy that he is, did give neighs and whinnies as encouragement.​
For a final flourish of sorts, she threw the stick at an apparently offending boulder. "What d'think Bader?" She turned around to face him, hands on hips in apparent pride at, well, whatever that just was. She stroked his nose as he whinnied at her quietly. "Come on! I'm getting better," Sabyne stepped back, and with a big exhale leaned down and over on her knees, "I'm ready for whatever we run into out there, bumpy roads, bit of drizzle, stuff of legends..." Standing upright again, she looked to Bader. He looked pretty nonplussed. With a sigh, she went to retrieve that trusty stick of hers.​
As she approached where the stick lay upon the ground, something odd caught her eye. There was a little black mark on the boulder she had struck. She couldn't clearly make out what it was but- Sabyne frowned softly, surely... No! But-... Surely, SHE HADN'T- Cautiously, she reached out a single hand, and brushed her fingers against-​
"EUGH"
The hand was retracted back quickly. It was just some weird black mouldy stuff. Ugh. Can't believe she'd actually thought she'd cracked a boulder, with a bloody stick of all things too! C'mon Sabs, get it together...​
"SABYNE!"
The voice startled her, stick falling out of her hands as she jumped.​
"There you are, you idiot." Garold pushed his was through the bracken, a very firm solid looking frown taking up most of the space on his face. "Dad, I thought you were getting the Padget Tree ready?"
"I was! But you and that old Mule are holding everything up again!"
Whoops. She pouted a little, and shielding her eyes looked up to the sky,​
"What? it's not even noon yet- ... oh"
Garold folded his arms, and spoke in that sarcastic i-know-better-than-you tone of voice she hated, "What were you doin?! Were you distracted by the Butterflies? the pretty daisies? Or were you just daydreaming about old fables and heroes again?"
The pout was turning into a full on sulk. She huffed and made her way over to the small pile of kindling she had actually remembered to pick up along the way, "No. I was just about to get Bader ready, actually". Her Father took it upon himself to check over the saddle bags and see what she'd actually been up to that morning.​
"You'll have to come back and get more yourself this afternoon as well. But I'm havin' Bader this afternoon, so you're walkin' it. Like it or not."
Oh no. Another whole afternoon away from her bickering family, however will she cope.​
"Now get him harnessed up, and lets get moving." She nodded,​
"Alright, I just need to get my-"
"NOW SABYNE!"
"Alright! Alright, I'm coming... Keep your moustache on,"
The walk back to Trud was boringly uneventful, save for her Dad prattling on of course. Despite Bader's presence, both Father and Daughter were too proud to even attempt offering the other the option to sit. Garold held the reins on one side, while Sabyne trudged along on the other.​
"What were you doing back there anyway?"
She shrugged, opting not to look at him. She just watched her feet trudge along the old dirt path instead.​
"Nothin' really"
"Yeah, exactly, and you'd have done that all day if I hadn't come back." Honestly Beanie, I shouldn't always have to be there to come and get you." She didn't give him an answer, although he left space for one. He motioned to the saddlebag, "When are you gonna fix up this old bag?". It was spoken far more as a demand, than that of a genuine question.​
Again, she just shrugged vaguely. "Soon, I just haven't got round to it yet,"
He scoffed, "Too busy fighting imaginary Trolls and Hobbes more like,"
Even Bader neighed in agreement. Sabyne simply groaned.​
Hopefully they'd be back at Trud soon.​

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Sweets ‘n Meats was all a buzz, the three Wrights running about like chickens with their heads cut off. There were a fair few of those in the shop, actually.
The celebration called for food, and lots of it.
“Get a move on, boy! Those turkeys’ll go bad before you finish!”
“I’ve already done loads, just-”
Pamela gave Seth a Look.
“Yes mum, right away mum,” He rushed off into the back room.

“Go easy on the lad, love. We’ve plenty of time.”
Pam’s face immediately softened. She turned to her wife and gave a big sigh, nuzzled her shoulder carefully as not to get blood on her. “I know, I know. I just want him to finish early, go out and have some fun.”
“Ooh, is fun allowed?” Beatrix asked cheekily.
Pam snorted. “Only today.”


“Rrrow? Rrrrrooow?”
“Is that right? You gonna tell me all about it?” Seth stepped over Soto, who was smooching around his ankles. “You want some chicken? Hmm?” He kneeled down, looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then fed the little cat some meat. “You can have a little bit, can’t you, yes,” He whispered.
“Now you just keep this between us, like we agreed.”
Soto purred happily. Yeah, he wouldn’t be tellin’ nobody.

Seth stood up to work on the turkeys. They had a little bag to put all the feathers in, and Pam liked to use them in quilts and pillows.
Once rid of the feathers, Seth took the head and chucked it to Soto.

A few turkeys and pigs later, Seth washed the blood off himself the best he could and headed off to help his mother.
“Anything for little old me?”
“Whatever do you mean, dear boy?”
“I am small and lovable, and therefore deserve cake. Maybe even...a pie.”
“I’m fairly sure it's Soto who's the small and lovable one,” Beatrix laughed.
“Ok, you got me there, I mean,” Seth lifted Soto into his arms. “Just look at him. Don’t you think he deserves some cream?”
“Ooh, here,” Beatrix handed Seth a tiny bit of cream, and a cupcake. “Don’t you let your mother see, you hear?”
“It’ll be gone before you know it,” Seth said, letting Soto lick the cream up off his hand. He took a huge bite of the cake and grinned. “Ok, what do you need help with?”
“The second lot of pies should be cool enough now, and I need you to get the next lot into the oven, and if you could get me another bag of flour…”

A while later, Seth was covered in dough, flour and a bit of jam. Pamela stormed in, lifted him up and marched outside. She dusted him off a bit, ruffled his hair. “No more helping, go out and enjoy yourself. Here,” She handed Seth Soto,” “Take the cat with you. I don’t want him getting into all the food. We’ll see you once we need help getting all this into the square.”
Seth frowned, “But-”
“No! Out, out!”
The door slammed and there Seth was, banished.

“Welp, looks like it’s just you and me, little friend.”
“Aoow,” Soto said, climbing up onto Seth’s shoulders. He turned around a bit, then sat, got up again, and sat in the same place.
“You done?”
Soto sighed. It was hard to get comfortable, you know? Gosh. “Rrrow.”
“Mmmhmm, ok then.”
Seth started walking, watching as everyone set up for the celebration.
 
Another day of work - be it unwarranted and purely happening out of a strong obligation - and yet, now, the work is harder and more intensive as it would usually be - due to the setup for the celebration that will be happening. In an open, farmland ruled 'sector' of Trud, there was plenty of farming going on as expected - the handiwork of Sakura and her craft, with some aid from her mother Aoi along the way. Sakura, at the time, was just compiling harvested crops and goods into one of several boxes before doing anything, sighing heavily as she lowered the last lot in. Sakura wiped some sweat off her head with her arm and not her mud-coated hands; that part of the job was done, now they need to-

"Sakura!"
A pale, worried expression washed over the named girl's face as she glanced to the source.
"Oh no..."

Change of plans, Aoi said otherwise - upon being called, Sakura headed over to Aoi, who had her arms crossed and was seemingly impatiently tapping her foot off the ground again and again, both of which gave Sakura some awful vibes, and that then led to when Aoi spoke up.

"Alright, so - all the harvests for the day are in, now we just need to make something with them, right?" Aoi asked, as if making sure she's getting verification from her daughter. Sakura nodded in response, and a beaming smile flashed onto Aoi's face. "Well, if almost everyone is going to be here, we might as well make something big and expansive! After all, it's best to make sure they enjoy it above all-"

"Or we could just make multiple of different things. It's either quality or quantity..."
Sakura cut in, silencing her mother until Aoi retorted calmly.
"You're right, but if we make something far bigger and better, wouldn't that fit in with the - I dunno, 'celebration' aspect?"
"Mmm... I guess..."
"Making the same stuff again and again is going to get stale - I think everyone would know that."
"Sorry, mom..."
"...Don't worry about it, Sakura. Come on, you can help - we can do this, and they're going to love it - I'm sure!"

With the compiled materials from a bountiful harvest, Aoi, with Sakura's help, would begin an undertaking of making a big something special for the celebration - she wasn't objectively wrong in what she said (perspective); a celebration needs something far better than some weak salads or something along those lines - you need to go bigger for the bigger occasions, she believes.

So, in translation, the two tried to make something in big quality worthy of the celebration that would be happening later on in the day - they couldn't keep it up forever of course, so they took the occasional break and/or generally did something else for a while. During one such break from their creating, Sakura harvested some more resources that had finished growing... And sighed when she saw Aoi relaxing by herself - the sound of jealousy.

"Why can't I do that..." The girl mumbled to herself, putting the harvested supplies she just picked up with the remains of the harvested - of which they mostly hadn't touched. Aoi didn't notice and was shortly heard laughing aloud to herself, obviously enjoying her time - but then there was Sakura, her daughter - who was just looking on in envy and jealousy. She wants these things, she can't get them... So, why?

"...Mom... One day, when I get my own break like yours, we'll spend it... together." Sakura muttered to herself, and after sorting out the supplies, it wouldn't be long before the two got back to work - while Aoi's mood persisted and Sakura's drained due to shooting her mood in the face.

They finished their work, but at the end of it all, Sakura was thoroughly exhausted. She'll need a while to get back into gear.
 
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Liam blinked as sweat trickled down his temple and settled in his eyes. The heat from the hearth permeated the air around him, effectively neutralizing the chill outside. The entire town was abuzz, either getting ready for the festivities tonight or desperately trying to finish their crafting on time before the celebration began. Liam was part of the latter. Not much was needed from the Lancaster’s at the celebration. Sure there would be cauldrons and utensils needed to serve the masses, but most families already owned these necessities.

Using a short pair of tongs, Liam pulled the glowing ingot from the fire and placed it on the anvil. Quickly, he began to hammer the strip, flattening and strengthening the metal before molding it against the anvil's curved end. Repeating this process, he took the hooked piece of metal and snapped the excess off before returning it to the fire. A voice spoke up behind him as he worked the bellows.

"All work and no play I see, brother."

Liam peered over his shoulder at Eammon before returning to his work. He placed the horseshoe on the anvil again, this time using a chisel to form the creases.

"Why do you have a chicken?" Liam asked, and the subject gave a low cluck in response.

"I've borrowed her from our neighbor, Cecily. This lovely lady and some of her siblings are going to make quite a show at the party tonight," Eammon said. He gently patted the hen's head and she narrowed her eyes in response. Liam copied her expression.

"I don't know what you're planning, Eammon, but I can guarantee it ends with father either disowning you or killing you." He placed the horseshoe back in the fire. Eammon set the chicken on the ground to let her roam the forge before responding.

"He'd have to know it was me first," Eammon said with a grin. "I'll be careful. Time it perfectly. No one will realize it was me."

"I'd say our neighbor would disagree," Liam said loudly over the sound of hammering.

"I'll have you know she is a willing accomplice in all of this."

"Cecily or the chicken?"

Eammon laughed goodheartedly. He picked up an unfinished knife and began to twirl it around. Liam bent the ends of the horseshoe and examined his work before quenching the piece in a nearby basin. He placed the finished product on a peg with the rest of its brethren, then turned back to his brother with his arms crossed.

"Shouldn't you be working?" Liam asked, interrupting Eammon as he tried to balance the knife on his nose. Eammon let it fall and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Careful, keep that talk up and someone might think you actually like smithing," he said. "For your information, I've already delivered the supplies across town. Father is picking up more material for the forge. And mother has already finished her work and is over at the Padget Tree to help set up."

He pointed the knife at Liam. There was a glint in his eye that made Liam suddenly feel like a kid again, and he was transported back to the days of pranks and swordplay with his brother. A smile was already forming on his lips as Eammon spoke up again.

"I know for a fact that you're already caught up on all of your work," Eammon said.

"So?"

"So, put away that hammer, extinguish the fire, and let's go make bad choices."

Liam laughed as he took off his apron and hung it up next to the door. He looked down at Eammon, who- despite being the older sibling- was a head shorter than him.

"Has anyone told you you're a bad influence?" Liam asked. Eammon grinned.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said, laughing. Liam rolled his eyes before pulling off his gloves and toolbelt. He glanced over his shoulder and snorted.

"Alright. Your chicken is on fire."
 
"Now, what did I tell you? Hmm? Recite back to me your promise, Seren."

Seren huffs, putting his hand up, as if pleading a promise. "I, Seren Candle promise to never again set fire to the forest. Er...Never set fire to anything important ever again. It was wrong of me to do so in the first place." He says with closed eyes before putting a hand to his heart.
"I swear it on my family's life, tonight will not be a disappointment."

"It isn't funny, boy." Seren's father Oliver says, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. "Your mother would be most disappointed in me." He mumbles to himself.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, just, don't set anymore fires." Oliver says, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing it. "We can't have anymore problems with anyone else. The Souček family are still horrified at the state of the grove. It used to be so beautiful, now the trees are short...Too short for their liking."

"Yeah, yeah. I won't bother anyone else with my 'problem." Seren rolls his eyes, quoting his fingers. "I gotta sort out the candles, I haven't finished yet." He mumbles, walking to the corner of the workshop. Many candles hung from the ceiling, these were his mother's creations, burned once a year on her birthday. He runs his hand along them, smiling softly to himself as his father shook his head and went back to checking what else they needed to do.

Once Oliver was gone, Seren went out the back and to a small fire he'd set up earlier. He'd set it in a small pot to keep from spreading, sitting by it and watching the flames dance. He was disappointed in himself for the small grove fire but it was just...hypnotizing. He puts his hands in front of himself, letting them feel the warmth coming from it. "I bet mother wouldn't be so mad with me."
 
It was barely dawn when Clarissa awoke ready for the long day ahead. With maybe 5 hours of sleep, she put on her gear and heading to the woods. It was like many, many other mornings before. Get up early and take care of the harvesting and collecting first, then garden, then open shop. The same routine almost every day. After perhaps an hour or three, she wasn't entirely sure, she headed back home and tended to the garden. By the time she finished, she heard her dad in the kitchen cooking what she hoped to be breakfast.

Clarissa threw her dad a smile as she headed to her room to change out of her dirt cover clothes and into the ones she would be wearing that day. Then she went back into the kitchen to help her father before she had to open the shop. "Morning Dad,"

"Morning Blueberry," Her father replied, ruffling Clarissa's hair much to her dismay.

"You used that blueberry yesterday." She stated, chucking at him while fixing her hair and setting out plates.

"I did? Hmm. Ah! Blackberry. I haven't used that one yet. " He plated the food, turning to Clarissa. "Clare you should see your mother before you open shop." His tone suddenly serious, making Clarissa look away.

"I'll see you guys at the celebration tonight, won't I? You promised mom you would take her." She mumbled. Truth be told, Clarissa wanted nothing more than to run up into her mother's room to see her. However, she was scared that seeing her mother like that would break her, and she needed to be strong for the family. Her dad sensed that he wasn't going to persuade her and just sighed and handed her a plate before taking his and Gwen's into their room. "Please at least meet us at the festival." He stated, before shutting the door.

Biting her lip, she sat at the table and ate alone with only muffled voices of her parents to listen to. She quickly ate and cleaned up before grabbing her stuff and heading to the shop preparing for the busy day ahead.
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It had been a few hours since the shop was open and Clarissa was tending to the shop and preparing remedies for customers, busing herself in her work, as usual, she hadn't even noticed it was sometime around dawn until her father came in.

"Shouldn't you be watching mom?" Clarissa asked, worry filling her voice.

"She's resting, she wanted me to make sure you eat." He stated, calming her concerns as he handed over the food he brought with him. "I think it's a good idea to close for today, we won't be busy in here with preparations happening."

Clarissa was silent thinking it over before giving a long sigh and nodding. "Alright, Dad. Now go to Mom. You keep looking at that door like you are about to bolt out of here." She managed to get a chuckle out of him as he headed back to the house. Clarissa finished the food that he had brought and turned her attention back to the remedy she had been working on before her dad came in. 'I'll close shop as soon as I finish these last few batches.'
 

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