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TBT's Winter Short Story Contest

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Here's my short story, this is definitely not last minute, nope.
On a distant island, covered by a blanket of fresh snow and snowboys, an unware villager arrives covered from head to toe in an oversized winter coat. Hiding her face in the shadows of her hood, she heads in the direction of her newly acquired house. Enjoying a sip from a travelling cup in one hand, and dragging her suitcase with the other in the thick snow, she trips. A villager off in the distance notices her struggle and makes his way towards her. “Are you alright?”, he cries. “Wait, I don’t recognize you. Are you new to these parts?”, while offering his hand to help her up. “Uh, I-I am fine.”, hesitant and stubbing on her words. “I-I recently moved he-here, today. I-I’m sorry, I must go.”, she quickly gathers her belongs but unfortunately falls over again, face first into the snow. “A-Are you sure? Do you need some assistance moving in?”, with slight confusion in his voice. “My name is Pudgy, I had trouble moving in-“, before he could finish his sentence, she dashes and stumbles into her house. Pudgy, unsure what to do continues with his chores and proceeds to walk back where he came. Our new arrival peaks through her window and watches him moves along. “He’ll understand soon.” she sighs.

The next day. She shovels the snow outside her lawn, astray in her thoughts. She feels a sudden tab on her shoulder. “Ek!”, alarmed with a high-pitched squeal. “It’s me, Pudgy”, he shouts. “Wearing that same coat again I see, don’t trip over wearing that again.”, he laughs. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Listen, if you need any help, I am happy to lend a paw!”, he smirks. “I don’t need any help.”, she huffs and walks back into her home. “O-ok? I’m sorry for disturbing you?”, Pudgy ponders, and again walks away. Inside her home, she prepares a drink of hot cocoa. “Not as good as mother use to make it.”, sighing at the thought. She pulls out a book labelled “hot chocolate for the soul” and drinks her beverage while filling through the pages.

Day three has arrived. She gazes at the falling snowflakes covering the sky, relaxing just outside her home. She feels calm by the sight. Just then, a shriek can be heard. “Surprise!”, he screeches, it’s Pudgy once again. “Ca-can I help you?”, she exclaims with a slight tone in her voice. “I’m sorry. I wanted to give you this gift! I thought you might like it!”, he exciting says. Hesitantly she accepts and unwraps the present to find a newly printed design shovel. “Maybe there was something wrong with your shovel yesterday. You seemed slow working with it. So I thought, why not give her a new one as a welcoming gift!”, Pudgy says as his little eyes light up like the dazzling snowflakes. “Uh. Thank you, Pudgy. That’s kind of you.”, she softly says. She takes a moment to respond, “Would you like to join me inside?”. Delighted, Pudgy agrees, and the two walk inside her house.

Once inside, she takes off her coat, and reveals her face “My name is Coco. I am not too fond of, "socializing". People tend to be unsettled by my appearance. I’m sorry. You can leave if you must.”. Pudgy caught off guard replies “You look fine to me? I don’t see any problem.”. Coco is shocked, “Are you positive? Are you saying that just to be nice?”. “Not at all.” Pudgy smiles. “I have met people that think I am nervousness with every step I make. My lips, for instance, are shrivelled up, I say it is due to the cold. And my eyebrows don’t help either, I have a constantly worried look.”, he laughs. Coco tightens the grip on her shovel, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved earlier.”. “That’s alright.”, he smiles again, “Look forward to the “present”!” laughing at his joke. Coco sighs, with slight relief.

Suddenly, a sweet aroma catches his scent. “What is that delectable smell?” he drools. “Oh. That’s my homemade hot cocoa.”, Coco says. “I’m trying to recapture my mother’s recipe. It brought my family and her friends together on cold winters days. It was that amazing. But unfortunately, mine is not as good as hers.”, she sighs. Pudgy jumps up in excitement, “May I try it, please?”. “S-Sure thing.”, Coco walks over and pours him a mug full, placing a little Gyroid-shaped marshmallow on top. “Careful, it’s hot”, as she hands it over to him. He eagerly takes it from her paws and scoffs it down, “Ahh, hot! Hot! Hot!”. “Haha, I warned you”, she giggles. “This is delicious! The best hot chocolate I have ever had! What are you talking about, Coco? This is mind-blowing!”, he cries in admiration. Coco blushes, “Thank you, Pudgy.”, she smiles. He hands the mug over, “Can I have another, please. And, add more marshmallows this time. I want to see those Gyroids dance!”. She laughs and hands him another with extra marshmallows. “To me, you have made something quite outstanding! A divine cup of goodness, and you have brought us together. I think we'll become good friends, Coco!”, Pudgy grinning from ear to ear. She pauses, pours herself a mug and laughs, “You sure are something too, Pudgy, haha. I appreciate your words. To friends it is!”. They clink their mugs together and laugh as Pudgy pretends to shovel the Gyroid-shaped marshmallows from his mug. “Hey, not with my shovel”, Coco laughs.

The two enjoy a piping hot cocoa together under the roof of a frosty covered abode. A new friendship begins.​

I had a coffee crumble candle lit while I typed this. I was craving a hot sweet beverage.
 
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The more I reread it, the more I feel bad how long it had gotten... and i hope it makes sense I'm too tired XD

Lil note, the gif in my signature is where I got the idea for this story.
And this town is my original town, real characters, villagers etc only thing is that I connected things from newleaf and wild world and horizon a little.
 
Don't Judge a Book by Its Hardcover

As yet another day's afternoon encroached, two sounds could be heard from across the sidewalk: The enthusiastic chirps of a young bird, and the grunts of agreement coming from a pot-bellied pig as they walked alongside each other into a driveway.

"And the way you dashed across to land that touchdown, it's like you got some quads made of steel, ace. Seriously bro, you gotta- oh-HO! Well would ya look at that!" The fledgling gave the setup in front of him a quick check; the garage was decked out with not only a TV and a sofa to chill on, but three lockers to store all the calf-sculpting equipment he desired. There were also a pair of gyroids sitting in a corner, beckoning him with hollow stares and gaping mouths, but he chose to ignore those for the sake of maintaining his and the hogs blossoming friendship. He let himself sink into the couch, taking in the stench of old pizza that's seeped into the textile over the years. "Now THAT'S what I call a clubroom right here!"

"My old man let me have some of this stuff, from his college days." The pig chose to settle against the wall nearest to the bird, who started cheeping again almost instantaneously.

"... Okay, so, this is great and all, but as I was saying earlier: In order to actually be fully inducted into our cool club, you kind of need a cool codename."

"A codename?"

"Yeah, an alias of sorts. I mean, you can't really expect people to revere you if your name's Don-"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it."

"Just take me, for example! Doesn't 'Ace' just exude competence? Totally makes you think of a superstar athlete, right? People are so used to calling me Ace, they've forgotten what my actual name is!"

He pondered on it. What kind of name could befit a juvenile swine with behavioral issues, something that could strike fear into the hearts of playground-goers? Scarface? "The Butcher"? Just Don?

His thoughts were put on hold when a green hippo still in his school uniform and a more casually dressed penguin trampled through the door and all over his cowhide rug, greeting the both of them. What followed were fifty seconds of watching them try to all fit on his double sofa, only for someone to have ended up sitting on the armrest.

"My, you've really outdone yourself with this room." Hippeux turned to face his maroon friend. "And just by the by, I heard about the prank you played on our substitute teacher. I mean, trying to ruin his gig is one thing, but to destroy his entire joke book?"

"I didn't destroy it, just hid it on a shelf he can't reach." He shrugged. "It's for the best anyway. Don't think the poor guy would've recovered from an audience of high schoolers throwing spoiled turnips at him." The other animals had no choice but to agree.

"B-but dude! He's going to flip like a pancake once he finds out!" Cube said. "Seriously, if Dr. Shrunk catches you, he's gonna switch from his 'sad' reaction right into the 'I'm gonna make a rasher outta you' reaction! And… man, now I'm kinda hungry." A heated debate erupted between the sofa-sitters on what takeout they should get to inaugurate their new clubroom.

Rasher, huh?

The pig cocked a crooked grin.

Yeah, that'll work.

___​

It wasn't long after he had fallen asleep that the whirs of four motorcycles ripped Tortimer out of his dreamland and back into the reality of his hard leather chair so fast he nearly choked on his drool.

Watching him from his dingy office window, the gang laughed uncontrollably as they spun circles around the mayor's plastered plaza.

"Alright, that's enough. Just leave already, you hooligans!"

They granted his wish and sped off at once. Too much teasing the old man and they knew they'd have a charge for murder on their paws.

"What d'you think he's gonna do now? Think he's gonna call those two again?"

"Of course. That's probably his most dialed number after the one from that Animalese Idol show." Everyone started cackling.

"In any case, once he calls them up, Booker's gonna have to explain to him again they're running a Lost & Found, not a police station."

"And that Akita can try all he wants, but he'll never be able to catch us." The gorilla turned to face the member manning the heaviest-looking machine of the bunch, her peach lips pursed. "Hey Rasher, aren't you like, really wanted 'round these parts?"

The swine met her visor-protected eyes. "Correct, and that's why I'm gonna pay 'em a little visit. Meet you at the gate."

Copper was the first he saw, or rather heard, chasing him. He worked his bike so fervently it almost crackled louder than the motorcycle. His back turned to him, he gave the hound a good view of who and what exactly he was dealing with: 'THE LOW TIERS - Lower Than Dirt' read the embroidery on worn leather. The patch of a buried gyroid underneath solidified their identity.

"Rasher. You and your gang have polluted these roads far too long. Just give up now!"

Rasher felt prompted to turn towards him, showing the more intimidating side of his face. His crooked grin and harrowing scar could chill even warm-blooded mammals. He procured a little rock from his pockets.

"Really? You're going to throw that at me?"

"Nope."

With a well-coordinated fling the rock hit the dead center of a hardwood tree. It shook once. Making a U-turn, Rasher faced the officer with crinkled eyes and his mouth twisted far up his cheeks. Poor Copper couldn't even register the tree shaking a second time. It was much too late to turn on his bike after the third shake. And when that nest fell out of the canopy, he already knew.

"W-W-WASPS!!!"

It was getting late when he finally saw the silhouette of his friends creep onto the horizon, yet it wasn't late enough for them to not make it through the gate.

Sure, Booker could close it prematurely. But as a guard dog, he was clearly instructed to leave the gate open until the human villager finished travels for their 'cultural exchanges'. And Booker was a loyal dog. He would never go against his instructions.

"By the looks of it, the human hasn't returned yet. This is our chance."

There was just no way he would.

His fellow bikers already sang songs of victory. "And yet another successful day, guys! This calls for a drink at- …. HALT!!!" Eight wheels had to come to a stop as the group attempted to stare holes into the closed gate in front of them, with a shivering bulldog blocking the way as if to add salt to injury, all the while clutching his wooden pike.

"And that'll be four criminals arrested on charges of disrupting town peace," a panting dog said, rushing up behind them with battered eyes and a fitting pair of handcuffs for each species present.

___​

He watched wearily as his friends were taken out of the courtroom one by one. The first to have had her hearing was Rocket, somewhat of a leader to the group, though they never made that official. Then Buck, who he heard arguing with the dogs about how when he said he was "carrying guns" he was, indeed, referring to his biceps. Lastly, Amelia left, who insisted that the only reason she took part in any of this was because she "looked fabulous in leather jackets".

And then it was his turn.

Rasher entered the full gallery. Staggering up to the podium, he met eye to… eye hole with his arbiter: A gyroid wearing a judge's wig, holding a toy hammer and swinging his arms hypnotically left to right, front to back.

"Donnell P. Loyne."

He swore he heard laughter behind him.

"Also known under the alias 'Rasher'. I'm seeing there are several charges against this person. Would the victims and witnesses like to present their testimonies?"

A lion began reading something from a gold-pleated card that sounded more like a screenplay than a testimony. "... It was on that cold Tuesday night that I saw the defendant throw a heap of trash into our river!"

The spectators gasped.

"Littering, I see. Sir, can you explain these actions?"

"Actually, I did that to get the trash out the town. The river exits into the ocean, so everything would just get flushed out, right?"

That spurred the audience right into whispering. Lloid had to calm the room down with two squeaks of his toy hammer.

"The next testimony, please."

A fragile-looking elephant stepped up, something about her screaming 'Handle With Care'. Must've been the porcelain. "I gave him a housewarming gift when he moved here. Though in return, all he did was call me a 'swine'..."

Like programmed, everyone let out another gasp.

"Sir, anything to say about these accusations?"

"Didn't mean it like that, I swear. That's just a speech tic I had ever since I was a youngin."

People started whispering again. The toy hammer squeaked another two times.

"One more testimony. Please let us hear it."

The last witness, a pecan-colored squirrel lady, began sighing in exasperation. "Oh Lloid, I didn't really see him commit any crimes… except the crimes against FASHION!"

Everybody had something to say about that.

"Ew, look at that shirt. That's like, totes out of season."

"Blue with yellow stripes? Where's his red cap and baseball bat?"


Squeak, squeak.

"I think I'm ready to pass my judgement. Sir, I can glean from your defenses that your heart is in the right place, but your brain is not." Excuse me? "I think instead of detaining you," Yes! "you should fine-tune your social skills and learn to understand your emotions better." Wait, no, just lock me up actual- "There's an old friend of mine in need of assistance, surely he'll have some work for you. Yes, that is my final decision."

He never even got to defend his fashion choices.

___​

"... So that's how the name happened. And how I ended up having to labor for the tanuki until he asked me to come retire at his 'island paradise'." A cranky pig snorted bubbles into his tea, the deep crease between his brows showing both age and experience. The human in front of him mouthed exclamations of awe, as they did after every chapter out of the book of his life that he was willing to narrate. That pear-shaped weirdo showed up at his door one day, declaring themself the "Island Representative", who just had to routinely come by to ensure all residents were satisfied with their new home. Blunt just like him, but with a little more tact. The only reason he allowed them to come over so frequently was because of their shared love for gyroids. And maybe because he's grown soft over the years, but that he'll never admit.

"But there's one thing you still haven't told me about…" Using an index finger they gestured to their brow ridge, their left, his right.

"Ah, that scar. I was just a piglet havin' the time of my life going down an elephant slide, when I done fell off the thing and planted my head backside up onto a tree branch." Not so intimidating now, is it?

As if having heard his thoughts, the human nodded firmly, then resumed stirring their tea.

"Hey, you know, I've been thinking about a retirement hobby for you. Something a fresh senior citizen like you could practice in his free time, which is all the time." He huffed.

"So, how about knitting?"

"Nah."

"Bicycling?"

"Hell no."

"Growing a garden?"

"To add to those flowers you parked on our beaches? Forget it."

"How about beekeeping? You guys have a lot in common."

At that, the corners of his mouth tugged to form a softened, yet crooked grin.

"Yeah, that'll work."

This might be the worst thing I've ever produced but I spent so much time on it that it's going on the internet anyway. I hope titles don't count towards the word limit.
 
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this is so terrible

Comfort.

"So... we're the only ones without dates, huh."

He huffed, cold mist escaping the tip of his nose. She didn't bat an eye towards him, instead focusing on the roadwalk that strerched beyond the sidewalk the two were standing.

"My answer isn't changing."

The weather was cold as the shoulder she gave him.

"I wasn't asking for a change of mind."

The two stood in silence for a few minutes, seemingly fine outwards on the situation that suddenly weighed on top of their chest.

Lobo and Ruby weren't exactly not on speaking terms, but their history predisposed them to awkward encounters like this if they were to be left alone. Lobo rubbed the long of his nose with the sudden remembrance that he had, in fact, confessed to the starry-eyed Ruby a year ago. Ruby, on the other hand, rubbed her mittens together, also remembering that long ago she had turned down the same wolf that was standing beside her.

They had just come from a winter party, both waiting by the sidewalk for a bus to take them home and save them from this disastrous encounter. It was 11:45 PM on Toy Day's eve, and the sidewalk wasn't the most ideal place to find oneself when "the most wonderful time of the year" came.

"It's kind of weird, isn't it?" Ruby started, still trying not to make eye contact. "A wolf and a rabbit standing together. It usually raises some alarms."

Lobo scoffed. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"I never said that," She replied, finally looking towards his direction. "It's just funny we don't ever worry about it. Maybe a certain comfort stayed all along."

"Yeah."

Silence ensued between the two.

"Don't you ever think the late teens is a confusing time for all of us?" Ruby started again, uncomfortable with the silence. "We have friends already dating and living together, some working, some still enjoying Toy Day as a child. And some of us just wondering what the heck we're doing with our lives." She looked up to the sky, void of any snow the winter weather should have brought.

"Yeah, I guess so." He shrugged. "Vivian's a model, Bea's the student council president, Genji's a soccer superstar... and I guess there's us. Kind of floating somewhere, doing something."

"Some are doing so many things in their lives, and I'm just here... worrying if I get anything for Toy Day this year." Ruby looked down on the palm of her mittens.

"You still wait for presents on Toy Day?" Lobo asked, tilting his head. "But..."

"I know it's for kids, but I still want to be a kid, you know?" She lowered her voice to one almost of a whisper. "I don't want to grow up yet."

Lobo lowered his head. "I guess we're two different people. I worry about what to get my younger siblings every Toy Day." He paused. "I guess I enjoy seeing the smiles on their faces after they get their presents from me."

"That's really sweet." Ruby smiled towards the wolf's direction. "I almost never get anything for Toy Day anymore because my parents think I'm too old for it. Every year I wish I did, though."

Silence once again ensued between the two.

"Hey," the voice was low, this time of Lobo's. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For making things weird."

"You didn't– well, I..."

"I'll be honest, I miss what we used to be." He looked up to the sky covered in clouds. "We worked together perfectly, but I was a dumb teenager with dumb feelings and I wish I thought about things better than just ruining the comfort we had with each other."

"You didn't ruin anything," Ruby shook her head. "It's me. Maybe I shouldn't have run away." She sighed, cold mist coming out. "It's just that... I never learned what to do during confrontations."

"It's okay. I'll make up for it," He said, digging through his jacket for something. "What better way to make up for a silly thing by doing something sillier?"

Just as the wolf said that, he brought out a red hat, similar to Jingle's, with reindeer plush horns attached to each side. As silly as he looked wearing it, Ruby laughed, both surprised and amused at the same time.

"Ruby, what time is it now?"

"Um..." she took out her phone, the light blinding her for a moment. "It's midnight of December 25."

"Well," he reached into his pocket and brought out a small gift, soon reaching it out to Ruby. "I had enough to get you something. Happy Toy Day and birthday... li'l ears."

Ruby was awestruck and stood there for a moment, blood quickly rushing to her cheeks. Instead of going for the gift she ran to the wolf, jumping up and hugging him around the neck.

"Lobo, what the..." she said, in the middle of tears. "You remembered."

"Anything for my best friend," Lobo said, hugging her back. "It's been exactly one year since that incident. I wanted to make your special day this year better than last year."

"I'm sorry for everything. I missed how comfortable it was doing this with you."

And for the while that the bus hadn't come, they talked as if tomorrow never came.
 
winter night in Frescas with my favorite crankies

The snow glistened and glittered through the dark sky, reflecting the moonlight and luminance of the street lamps. On this night, only two houses were lit up in Frescas, their chimneys smoking, wafting through the night. Between midnight and dawn, these villagers lie restless.

Dobie sat retreated in his rocking chair by the warmth of his fireplace, paws between the pages of his book. He'd recently picked up "Delicacies of the Sea" a book his dear friend Capri recommended to him after grumbling on about having the same meals each day- which typically consisted of oranges and well, more oranges. It's been a while since he's cooked at all and the last great meal he'd had was on Turkey Day which was months ago. Dobie used to cook in his younger years, but as he grew older he became more and more swamped with work as a writer for papers and journals. Of course, he was able to stay healthy eating off of fruits but it became a bad habit where that'd be all he ate. He hungered for meat and meals but only had the opportunities to eat foods like those on holidays- and even on those days, he wouldn't even be the one to cook them, only being able to get them from potlucks and large celebrations. But to be honest, he just wanted something comforting and tasty- something like home. As a busy writer, Dobie typically spends his days holed up in his room, only coming out to take walks around the island when he needed inspiration. Of course, when he wasn't busy he'd be reading other works- this was one of those times.

"It's getting pretty late, huh," he thought to himself. Dobie took in a deep breath and rocked his chair a bit more, and as he did so an alluring aroma crossed his senses. Curious, he followed the scent outside, bundled in a scarf and earmuffs peeking through his door. The rest of the village lights were off beside the street lamps and Limberg's house- his next-door neighbor.


"I don't want to bother him but, AARRRGH!! Whatever he's cooking just smells so good!" Dobie's mouth watered as he crept up towards Limberg's doorstep.


*KNOCK KNOCK*


Limberg, who had been sitting crouched on his floor lept up.
"Geez... Who could it be at this hour, did I do something wrong?" He scratched his head and opened the door.
"Hey neighbor, uhhhhh what smells so good in there?" Dobie peered over Limberg's short body into his house.
"Eh? I thought I did something to interrupt your night for a second... Thank goodness that wasn't it! And I've just been staying up, just thinkin' about life, ya know...? Didja wanna join? I'll grab a beer for you, I've got some sweet potatoes roasting right now." Limberg said, already walking towards his fridge.
"You know what, It's been a while since I've let loose, why not?" Dobie stepped in and sat down by the fire.

And so the two sat around the pile of leaves smoking around the potatoes, catching up and laughing through the night. The blistering night wind couldn't touch their warmth.
 
It's awful, I did most of it in a day, but by god am I proud I manage to write something.
And 1,000+ words no less! Hope it's coherent enough to get participation points.

Brewster was a bird of few words, he didn’t warm up to others easily, so much so that many think that he lacks any close friends, speaking to only the coffee beans he brews every morning. Despite how it seems, Brewster does have one very close friend, K.K. Slider. A very strange pair one may say, how did that come about? Brewster remembers that very day as if it was only yesterday...

The quiet pigeon grew up in the coffee business, his parents owned a rather popular coffee shop. Everyday, animals from all the districts of the city came by to have a cup of finely brewed coffee at the pigeon family’s shop. Today was like any other day in the city, Brewster was out running errands for his folks, picking up fresh coffee beans, and another boxful of sugar and cream. On his way back from the farmer’s market the young dove was stopped by the sound of a soothing guitar strum. Brewster was a focus driven bird, never getting caught off guard or distracted when having a goal set, but the acoustic sound was captivating enough to stop mid stride. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look. He thought to himself as he followed the sound to the bottom steps of the nearest bus stop.
There he found him, sitting on a milk crate, guitar in hand, head to toe in off-white fur and with the biggest eyebrows he’s ever seen. The young pigeon has seen plenty of dogs come into the shop, but never one like this. The tune sounded like nothing he’s ever heard in the city, it’s obvious that this pooch comes from the small villages in the outskirts. The way he’s singing, calming and melodic in the middle of the white noise of city life. It felt like he was taken to a void where it was only him and the musician in front of him, images of the seasons changing right before his eyes. Only once the song was over did the young pigeon snapped back to reality. Brewster was in awe! It was rare to see such passion and talent given to a single craft like this.

“I hoped you enjoyed my little tune, just a lil’ something I came up with on the spot.”

With a start, Brewster started fumbling with the items he was carrying, embarrassed of being caught gawking at the musician. Once the items are stabled in his arms does he clears his throat to comment on what he thinks.

“It was great, soothing and gave the feeling of something nostalgic, I’m not sure why though…”

The dog gave a soft smile and a hum at the response.

“I was hoping it gave off that vibe, y’see, I come from a lil’ village, where the trees are still plentiful. Was thinking of the forests back home.”

“Oh. What brings you all the way out to the city?” Brewster questioned.

“I’m a traveling musician, going where the wind takes me, playing gigs here and there. A free spirit you can say.”

This certainly puzzled the bird. What about his family, his job, his life back home? Before Brewster can ask, the musician, as if knowing what the dove was about to say, continued on.

“There’s more to life than just settling with what you have, life is about taking risks, to chase after dreams rather than chasing one’s own tail, y’know what I mean?”

Brewster definitely does not know exactly what he meant, but he believes he understands what the dog was trying to voice. But to drop everything one ever knows to chase after dreams like that… Brewster can really admire that.

“Say, you’ve got any dreams of your own?” The musician asks out of the blue.

“Oh, uh…” The young pigeon shuffles on his feet for a bit. Setting down his items to think on the question.

“...I suppose I do wish to get out of the city, open up my own coffee place. Small room, dimly lit, soft music and bar seating. Just something with a more calming atmosphere than the shop my parents own right now.”

The musician just gave a nod, took a moment to think and started playing a soft melody. “I can really dig that. It’s good to have your own dreams to strive for. It ain’t good feeling like you’re tied down to the only option set to you by others. I’m sure you’ll achieve that lil’ coffee dream in no time. Nothing shredded, nothing gained.”

That really struck a chord within Brewster, never thought that was ever an option for him! His new friend’s point of view does have merit. Suddenly Brewster was hit with inspiration, plans, and what ifs. Ideas flew to the forefront of his mind, ideas that he can take to achieve the dream he’s been thinking of for so long. Opening his beak to ask for advice from the laid back dog, he was interrupted by the sound of the city hall clock, singing the tune that indicates the start of a new hour. Oh no, they were expecting me to get back half an hour ago, I’m late! The young dove quickly picked up the supplies, gave a quiet thank you and farewell to the musician before running off. It was until he returned to his parents’ shop that he realized he forgot to ask the mysterious canine their name, but never forgot his words.

Years later did he find out, after saving up enough, Brewster was able to open up his own establishment in the basement of the museum a few towns over. Blathers, the owner of the museum, came down to give him a letter addressed to the pigeon. It contained an aircheck, which he later registered as the same melody that the canine played after learning of Brewster’s dream, and a note that read the following...

Hey, it’s been awhile, but a little birdy on the street told me that you finally opened up that shop you dreamt of. Knew you could do it. Mind if I swing by for a cup? -K.K.
 
I overcame my writer's block just in time, yussssss...

Every spirit on this island has a role to play.

For us in the Nook family, we have the honorable tradition of providing goods and shelter. For the Ables, it is to enrobe and armor; and for the owls, it is to teach hunting and taxonomy.

But for this skunk, who is once again trying to steal my wares...

“Little skunk, you do know how easily you are spotted in this snow, yes yes?”

He pauses in his lock-picking, a worn awl in one claw and a beaded pin in the other.

“Did Mr. Redd set you to this task?” As if on cue, a ginkgo leaf wrapped in tissue flutters out from beneath his cap. The skunk tries to snatch it before it activates, but instead, he spears it with the pin and its magic fades. There is no illusion to aid him now.

“Tis my business, old codger,” he says in his unusual accent, a remnant of his former life. He scampers away and I don’t even bother making a show of trying to chase him.

Winter is long, draping the island in blinding white for months. I see the young god often, training outdoors: shaking trees for ornaments or catching snowflakes with her net or rolling snowballs and giving them life. It is on one of these blustering cold days that I find the skunk weeping at my doorstep.

“Mr. Nook, I need your help!” He holds his awl up to me, grasping it tightly in both paws.

“I don’t understand the problem...” I begin to say, but I realize suddenly that I can see the tool through his paws. His arms are almost entirely translucent. “Oh, you are beginning to fade, little skunk.”

“How do I stop it? I’ll do anything, please; Mr. Redd said you would know what to do!”

My nephews, the spirits of echoes, approach on their way to the shop while humming the latest tune by the local bard spirit. I wave them over, finding this to be a fortuitous teaching opportunity.

“Uncle, did you need us for something?” “…something?”

“The skunk is beginning to fade. Either he accepts his role as a spirit, or we will see him fade away. Shall we help him?”

“What is his role, uncle? Is he a spirit of thievery? We don’t need another one here.” “…here.”

“Mr. Redd teaches the young god to recognize deception— a necessary skill for her next life. No, I don’t think we need another one of his kind,” I pull at one of my whiskers in thought. The skunk shakes his head in dismay.

“Let me offer you this,” I address the skunk and summon a single coin. “This ‘bell’ is imbued with my life force. It is for you to borrow, to sustain yourself until your purpose can be found.” My nephews gasp in surprise.

“Don’t be concerned, little ones. As the spirit of debt and trade, I have the upper hand here. These bells are the currency of this island,” I explain. “Interactions with the young god keep us corporeal, and for every bell she touches that passes through our paws, our presence is guaranteed. Hold this bell dear, young skunk.” I flip the coin in the air, and the moment the skunk catches it in his paw, his arms solidify once again.

Fortunately, today is one of the days the young god stays slumbering in her abode. The Nooklings and I usher the young skunk around the island, trying to find a job for him. The owls deny him entry into their museum, finding his knowledge too limited and his past transgressions too dangerous to their valuable pieces. The camel finds his accent confusing and is unable to communicate her needs clearly. The sloth has a similar problem, finding his fast-talk intimidating and the smell of soot and city offensive to his love of earth and greenery. The old sow already has a protégé and cannot afford to take another.

We arrive, at last, at the doorstep of the Able sisters. Sable gives a brusque nod before returning to scrutinizing her patterns. After listening to his tale, Mabel nods in understanding.

“I see that you are already holding and awl and pin. Clothing is part of your calling, if only we can harness your skills in the right way. We do have an excess of footwear and a new line of purses and packs we were wanting to offer. Maybe you can advertise them in the market with your charming personality,” she gives the skunk a wink.

“I’ll take what I can get,” he tries to sound detached, but there is a glint of hope in his eyes.

Soon after, the skunk we call Kicks is famous for hawking his stock in the plaza. He is often seen flipping the coin, which I’ve allowed him to keep until his role can be found.
 
I'm glad I wrote something on time too! Been taking a break from Animal Crossing.
Here is my short story. :)
As I stare through the window from my warm office room, watching the pristine snowflakes outside fall gently from the sky, I take sips of my coffee, elbows resting on the desk, while I let my mind wander on its own.
After a very busy and festive month in December, the month of January with the start of the New Year has been calm, relaxing, uneventful.
The whole island being draped in white snow, I took a break from terraforming, indulging myself instead on hobbies I have been putting aside for a long time, mainly anime-watching.

It is two o' clock in the afternoon. Time for a walk.
Closing my laptop, I get out of the antique chair and head to the living room. I grab my navy blue peacoat and blue pom casquette on the iron hanger stand. After putting them on, I wear my orange moccasin boots before heading out.

The air outside is cold just as expected from a winter month. As I exhale, I can see my breath looking like puffs of cloud.
Walking down the incline, I get excited when I see Kicks making an appearance on the plaza of Resident Services.
What shoes will he be selling today?
"Hi Kicks!"
"Hi there Minou," he says in his usual courteous smile.
My attention is drawn at the shoes, socks and bags he put in display. There is an evening bag, ballet slippers, extra-large backpack, visual-punk boots, color-blocked socks among other things.
"I would like to buy the mint ballet slippers." This should complete my collection.
"Very much obliged!"

Happy of my purchase, I head to the shrine now and meet on my way, Sheldon, a villager who has been sticking around with me for the longest time, being one of my first villagers.
My face is lit with glee, noticing how he is wearing the green knit cap with earflaps I gave him the other day.
"Yo, cardio!"
"What's up Sheldon?"
"Well, I was hanging out at Marshal's place since this morning, cardio. And guess what? Not once did he agree to do push-ups with me!" He complains.
Although he isn't particularly upset, I refrain myself from chuckling in response, not wanting to appear insensitive. Since there are no other jock villagers on Miyushima, it hasn't been easy for our freckled squirrel to find himself a training buddy.
"You gotta give him an incentive, Sheldon."
"Incentive, cardio?"
"That's right. If someone doesn't have the same interest as you, you can't just expect they would accept to do push-ups with you like that without anything to motivate them to do so."
"...What will motivate Marshal to do push-ups with me, cardio?" He questions, thinking hard.
"That is something you will have to find out by yourself." I said to him in an encouraging tone.
He looks up at me, eyes bright.
"Thank you Minou! That was helpful!"
"You're welcome. Good luck!"
Satisfied of our exchange, we wave at each other before continuing our walks in opposite directions.

As I take the stone staircases leading up to the shrine, I clear my mind, basking in the spiritual energy that surrounds the place.
Standing now in front of the main hall, I bow twice, clap twice, then pray in silence.
"May 2021 be a good year."
I bow one more time.
After standing there for a moment of peaceful quietness, I walk down the flight of steps, heading back home.
 
The Perfect Gift

Every time I would sit under the vast branches of the old town tree and watch the crystalline structures of snowflakes whirl by and dust the landscape like powdered sugar, I would reminisce about a Toy Day and a snow-colored hamster with bright eyes who lived many years before I was born. That girl was Flurry, my grandmother Delilah’s childhood friend. Whenever my grandmother spoke of her time as Moonsong’s mayor, especially during the winter season, she would smile and ramble about all of her silly snow adventures, misshapen snowfolk, and of course her dear friend, Flurry. With any mention of my grandmother’s companion, her eyes would grow round with warmth that encompassed her chilly and wrinkled face like the sun shining on a frozen lake. Every Toy Day, I would hear that same story from my grandmother in front of the fireplace, who would sit in her rocking chair and drink tea while recalling the events of her young adulthood as the mayor of a budding town like a sprig of a young pine tree.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was late December, a light snowfall kissed the snowy hills of the quaint town of Moonsong, a community where all of its inhabitants were eagerly awaiting Jingle to deliver their presents on Toy Day. Flurry was considered the heart of Moonsong as she was the youngest and most cheerful of all of the villagers. Every Toy Day, the villagers of Moonsong would come together and decorate the town with displays of glistening greens, blues, and reds which would decorate every house, every rock, and every tree across the sandy beaches, all the way to the quaint shops of Main Street to celebrate the joys of holiday festivities. Flurry was the most excited of all, waiting not only for Toy Day, but the rare perfect oranges that her friend Delilah would bring from the neighboring citrus town by train. Flurry’s mouth watered, she could not wait to taste the sweet, supple flesh of a shiny perfect orange that her friend would bring her, creating longing in little Flurry’s tender heart.

Suddenly, the rails of wheels squealed as a train pulled up by Moonsong’s station, prompting Flurry to jolt up from her regal bed. She pushed her tiny head towards the window which was glazed with condensation, squinting her eyes trying to make out a figure emerging from the station. Flurry let out an excited squeak.
“That must be Delilah!”
Throwing on some gloves and her favorite scarlet sweater, she barreled out the door to greet her dear friend whom she waited so long for. Outside, the snow was a frigid and deep-sea that could almost swallow up a tiny creature like Flurry, though she prevailed despite the bitter cold that stung her cheeks and nose. Staggering, her feet met snow then the cobblestone ground of the station and Flurry could almost burst with excitement. She expected the tall and slender frame of her friend with honey-colored hair and warm gray eyes that she adored, only to meet a short, yellow-furred cat with chocolate-brown hair. It was Katie, a wandering cat that often travels to Moonsong.
“Oh, hi Katie, what brings you to Moonsong?” On the outside, Flurry smiled and cocked her head to the side, but on this inside, she was heartbroken. She knew Katie mutually through Delilah and tried her best to be friendly with everyone regardless of who they were, though her heart ached with dismay. Being interrupted from her thoughts, Flurry noticed Katie gripping the seams of her blue dress and beige hat, which was almost about to be carried off by the frigid wind, and her teeth were chattering.
“I-it’s a p-pleasure to s-see you ag-gain, Flurry”!
Katie looked absolutely miserable, and one could tell from her sullen eyes that she needed somewhere warm to stay.
“Is everything alright, Katie? Do you want to come inside and have a cup of coffee with me by the fire?” Flurry asked with concern. “You look like you’re freezing, I’m afraid you’ll catch a cold if you stay out in this type of weather.”
The young cat vigorously shook her head. “N-no thanks. You s-see, I missed m-my train and n-now I’m w-waiting for the n-next one. I won’t s-stay too long anyways, I w-want to s-see my mom.”
Katie forced a smile, but Flurry could not stand by and watch someone freeze their whiskers off, not unless she could help it. Without thinking, Flurry pulled off the sweater that she was wearing, leaving her only in her undershirt. Flurry was disheartened at giving away the sweater Delilah had knitted for her, blinking at the colored designs one last time before handing Katie the wooly bundle, trying not to show that she too was freezing.
“I insist, Katie. You need it more than I do. I wish you a warm and safe journey to your mother and Happy Toy Day”. Flurry shuffled a little bit, wondering if she had made the right decision in giving one of her most valued possessions to a stranger.
Happily, Katie purred with gratitude and slipped the scarlet sweater on. It was a bit too small as the bottom of the sweater was up to her stomach but Katie obliged nonetheless.
“Oh, thank you, Flurry! I really mean it! I may not have much but I wish you a Happy Toy Day too”!
As though a signal, the familiar voice of Porter rang throughout the station.
“The train is about to depart! Last call to show me your ticket! Eek eek!”
“I have to go, Flurry. Really, thank you so much.” Katie shot a warm look towards Flurry before scurrying off onto the train. Katie showed Porter her ticket and boarded the train, looking back at Flurry before heading inside the station. Flurry felt like she did the right thing, though she still missed her friend Delilah. All of a sudden, a voice rang out,
“This stop is Moonsong! Everyone for Moonsong, exit here!”
Flurry felt a new glimmer of hope as she saw the round familiar face of her friend, Delilah emerged from the entrance of the train station, carrying with her a basket of perfect oranges.
“Delilah! You’re back”! Flurry pushed through and hugged her friend, almost knocking the oranges out of the basket. Delilah let out a gasp and almost fell over, catching some of the oranges before they fell to the ground.
“It’s good to see you too, Flurry.” Delilah pointed to the oranges. “And look what I’ve brought: oranges! Not just any kind, they’re for Toy Day”!
Flurry inhaled the sweet mist of the oranges, they looked bigger and juicier than she had remembered last time, and she could not wait to take a bite out of one of them on Toy Day. Delilah smiled at her friend and pointed towards the town.
“Come on Flurry, let’s find the others! Plus, Isabelle must be worried sick. Won’t you help me carry the oranges back to my place after?”
Flurry happily nodded and strolled with her friend, feeling at once warmth in the once-bleak winter.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A few days had passed, and it was the evening of Toy Day, and it was chillier than usual. Snowflakes whirled past the trees and there was a soft glow of the moon like a luminescent orange. Speaking of oranges, every villager was spending Toy Day at Mayor Delilah’s house. A giant festive tree with sparkling lights with presents underneath was set at the corner, and nuts and pine branches decorated the room. Lolly and Merengue were drinking hot chocolate, Marina and Maple were chatting about books, Julian, Cookie, and Diana were all gossiping about anything related to celebrity scandals, Marshal was stuffing mashed potatoes down his cheeks, and Flurry and Delilah were sitting by the fireplace with the oranges sitting still on a china plate.
Delilah looked excited talking with her friend once again.
“Flurry, I’ve gotten you the cutest hat to match with your sweater, you’re gonna love it!”
Of course, Flurry had already given away Delilah’s precious sweater to someone else, guilt welling up in Flurry’s stomach. Before Flurry could tell her the truth, the sound of a kettle screeched, prompting Delilah to check on the kitchen.
“I’ll be right back, that must be the tea!”
After Delilah got up and left, Flurry could not help but feel guilty for what she had done earlier. Delilah had done so much for her, run the perfect town, brought oranges all the way from another town, and even was so kind to invite her for the Toy Day dinner. When Delilah returned, she had a cup of tea in one hand, and stitched up a sweater in the other with eleven patches. Flurry could not believe it.
“Happy Toy Day, Flurry. I know what happened to the sweater, by the way. I managed to pass by Katie wearing it and she explained to me what you did. So, everyone in the town and I made you a new sweater! It’s a bit shabby but we hope you like it!”
Flurry was astounded. She just could not believe it. All of the other villagers smiled at her and she could not help have tears of joy as Delilah slipped on the sweater for her friend. Each stitched-up pattern was unique to each of her friends: A fish from Lolly, a honey pot from Maple, a flower from Lolly, a rainbow from Julian, a cake from Merengue, a harp from Diana, a marshmallow from Marshal, a dog biscuit from Cookie, a lollipop from Marina, and an orange from Delilah.
“I can’t thank you all enough.” Flurry was struggling for words, but all she could do was laugh with her friends and eat oranges with her friends on a special Toy Day.
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I’ve wanted to ask my grandmother what happened to Flurry, but whenever I had asked that question my grandmother would tear up and ask me to give her some time alone. It turned out that was Flurry’s last Christmas before she passed away (I was told this by my mother), the cause still unknown to me but known to my grandmother who would not pry. I had decided to leave my grandmother alone and walk towards the kitchen, looking out the window as I went down the stairs. Through the blizzard I could have thought to see snow-white fur and bright eyes staring through right at me, smiling, but when I blinked again, the figure was gone. I shook my head and opened the refrigerator. There amongst the countless piles of fruit laid a single orange, plump and shiny. I gingerly took the piece of fruit and grabbed a knife from the drawer, peeling it, spirals of orange peel pooling at the counter. I raised the piece of orange to my lips and took a bite, relishing the sweet juice as it dripped onto my tongue. I wonder if this orange was as good as the one's Flurry and my grandmother had shared. Probably not but I smiled anyway, placing myself into their shoes, or in this case, sweater, on this chilly Toy Day.
 
I’m finished with my entry! I’m glad I managed to write something. I have to say though, I wish I could have wrote more, but then I would have exceeded the word limit. The struggle is real, lol.
Lucky and the Ship of the North Star​

The snow was falling ever so slowly and blanketing the ground in a coat of pure white. It was dark outside, so dark that the only thing illuminating the darkness was the white snow that was hitting the ground. Inside each of the villager’s homes were sleeping critters. Inside one particular villager’s home, however, was a critter that couldn’t sleep. One that was wrapped up in bandages and had bright yellow eyes. Lucky kept looking at the clock on his nightstand, wondering when he would be able to fall asleep. Around his room were an arrangement of toys, furniture, and spooky items. After looking at the ceiling for awhile, Lucky finally became tired enough to fall asleep. After what felt like an eternity, Lucky woke up. Looking at where the door was slightly cracked, there was a bright light filtering into the room. Lucky rose out of bed slowly and walked over to the door. Mustering up all the courage he could, he opened the door. As soon as he stepped outside he saw the light coming from a distance. Lucky went back inside and got dressed in warm clothes. He walked through the island and made sure to keep following where the light was coming from. Lucky finally made it to the dock, and docked there was a mysterious, gigantic ship with smooth and eerie fog rolling off of it.

“Hello? Is anyone there?!” Lucky shouted at the mysterious ship. However, not a sound was made in response.

Just then there was a loud, grating noise. After a few minutes Lucky uncovered his ears. Down near the ship was an odd-looking seagull in a fancy uniform.

“Everyone aboard! Everyone come on board the Ship of the North Star! EVERYONE ABOARD!!!” The seagull called out at the island.

Lucky slowly walked over to the seagull. When he made it to where the seagull was, the seagull looked at him.

“Well hello there, young pup. This is the Ship of the North Star. Are you going to board?”

Lucky thought about it for awhile, but gave no response. The seagull pulled out a clock from underneath his uniform’s sleeve and looked at the time.

“Ah! We haven’t a moment to lose! If you’re going to board, you better board now!” The seagull said to Lucky.

“A-alright. If it’s just for a bit, then why not?” Lucky responded.

He followed the odd-looking seagull onto the ship. The ship undocked from the port and slowly left the island. Lucky slowly walked towards the captain’s room and saw the seagull in front of the wheel for the ship.

“H-hello there again” said Lucky. “Where are we headed to if you don’t mind me asking?”

The captain looked over him while still steering and smiled.

“Why, we’re headed to pick up the other animals that will be joining us for this trip!”

Lucky nodded in amazement and stayed in the captain’s room, looking out over the vast ocean from behind the window covering the room.

Just then the mate called from the lookout up above.

“Land ahoy!” said the first mate of the crew. “Land ahoy!”

Once the ship finally docked at the island, there was another animal down below wanting to board, much the same as Lucky had boarded the ship.

The animal was a green alligator. He was gawking at the ship and wondering why it was there. The captain came down to greet him. After an exchange of words, the captain came back onto the ship. The ship began to leave the dock, but the alligator wasn’t boarding.

“Wait, why isn’t he boarding? He’s not going to make it. Slow down!” Lucky said to the captain.

Lucky rushed back to the backend of the ship and saw the alligator running up the dock, trying desperately to make it.

“Grab my hands!” Lucky shouted at the alligator.

The alligator jumped and almost fell into the ocean, but Lucky grabbed his hand and helped him up into the ship.

“Woah, that was a close one. I thought I was a goner for sure!” The alligator said. He looked at Lucky in amazement.

“Thanks for your help? What’s your name?” The alligator asked Lucky.

“It’s Lucky” Lucky responded. “What’s yours?”

“Mine is Boots! A great name for a big guy like me!” Boots responded back to Lucky.

They both turned around and saw the captain standing there, furious.

“I didn’t say he could board!” The captain shouted at Boots.

“I’m sorry. I know I said I wasn’t—” Boots said before was interrupted.

“I was the one who helped him up, so if anything happens to him it’s on me” Lucky said to the captain.

The captain’s expression changed to one of neutrality.

“Well, alright then. As long as he doesn’t cause any trouble” the captain said. The captain walked away.

“Thanks so much!” Boots exclaimed while crying and shook Lucky’s paw. “I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Lucky nodded and smiled. They stood around a bit before, once again, the first mate from the lookout up above called out and another island came into view.

A young frog girl boarded the ship and looked around. She saw Lucky and Boots and walked over to them.

“Hi, friends! What are your names?” She asked them. Lucky and Boots exchanged names with her.

Everyone on the ship went inside the cabin and had a fancy meal. There were assortments of seafood and fruit the likes of which Lucky had never seen before. There were also fizzy drinks that exploded with flavor and tasted really good. After everyone was done eating, the ship undocked from the last of the islands, having picked up its last villager. Lucky walked back over to the captain’s room with Boots, Lily, and others.

“Um, forgive me for asking so many questions, but where are we headed now?” Lucky asked the captain.

The captain looked over at him and smiled with an expression of excitement.

“Why, my lad, we’re headed to find the North Star! After all, this is the Ship of the North Star!” The captain said.

“But what is the North Star?” Boots exclaimed aloud, scratching his jaw in curiosity.

“A long, long time ago the world as we know it was covered in a thick blanket of ice. As the ice began to melt, islands formed, and from the islands we appeared. Some of the first boats were made. The North Star is a star that sits in the night sky. Ordinarily, it could never be reached by us, but legend says that those with a pure heart are able to actually reach it if they make it to the apex or top of the world. Countless crews with boats have tried, but have been unsuccessful, and some have even sunken to the bottom of the ocean! But my sailor heart is a sailor heart of gold, one that will not be deterred to find it!” The captain finished telling his tale as he had stars in his eyes.

“Ooo! It sounds like a sight to behold! I’d really like to find it!” Lily exclaimed to the others.

“That’s exactly why I’ll need all of your help finding it. The journey will be long, but I believe we can do it” the captain responded.

Just then the ship came to a halt with a loud, grating screech, similar to the one Lucky had heard earlier when he boarded the ship.

“What is it?! What’s the problem?!” The captain shouted as he left the room and talked to the second mate.

“C-captain, I’m sorry. But we’re stuck! The ice is surrounding us and the ship can’t move! Even the engine room is starting to freeze over!” The second mate said with a look of worry on his face.

The captain looked down and wondered what he could do.

“We can help” Lucky said as he walked out to them with Boots and Lily.

“Yeah, just leave it to us!” Boots said with a look of pride on his face while flexing his muscles.

Lucky looked around frantically for ideas, and found one. Near the side of the boat was an anchor of steel that must weigh tons upon tons of pounds.

“I have an idea. Help me with this!” Lucky shouted to Boots and Lily as he struggled to push the anchor off the boat.

Boots and Lily ran up and slammed into the anchor, helping Lucky push it further. They struggled and grunted, but it would only budge a little bit. The first and second mate saw what was happening and helped push the anchor as well, but it still wasn’t enough.

“It’s not enough. We need more help!” Lucky shouted as he continued to struggle.

“You kids…” the captain said as he looked at them with teary eyes.

He then steeled his resolve and knew what he had to do. He ran into the anchor at full speed with all his might and pushed. The anchor began to move finally, and after enough force it fell off the boat and sunk into the ocean. As it hit the ice and sank into the ocean the ice broke, and in turn the ice all around it broke and sunk into the water.

“We can move again! We can move the ship, and it’s all thanks to Lucky!” The first mate shouted in joy.

Everyone cheered, picked Lucky up, and kept throwing him into the air.

“Hahahaha, alright! Alright! That’s enough!” Lucky said as he giggled.

Everyone returned to their positions and the ship began moving ever more northwards. After awhile the temperature became really cold and fog began to cover the areas around the ship. Time passed and passed, but nothing came into sight. Lucky walked over to the captain’s room and went inside.

“Are you sure the North Star exists?” Lucky asked him.

“I-I’m not sure” the captain responded. He began to doubt and looked down.

Everyone sighed and was in a somber mood. Just then, however, Lucky saw a faint light that became brighter and brighter.

“It’s the North Star!” Lucky exclaimed.

“W-what, the North Star? Where?!” Boots shouted as he got up. He had been asleep.

“Right there! It’s right there!” Lucky shouted with joy. Everyone looked ahead and sure enough, a bright light was illuminated. Lucky tried to reach out, ever so slowly, and touch it. As he did though, he woke up.

Lucky looked around in confusion and saw that he was still in his room in his house, and it was still dark outside.

“Wh-what? It was just a dream?” Lucky said aloud in sadness. He got up from his bed and walked around. He stuffed his paw in his pocket, and felt nothing at first, but as he reached further he pulled out a slip of paper with a gift attached to it. Lucky read what was on the paper.

Lucky, if you’re reading this, I’m glad you joined us for our journey. They say that those who believe and believe very strongly can achieve their dreams. Thanks for helping me achieve mine. You must be… pretty lucky. -The captain

Lucky smiled and opened the gift slowly. Inside the gift was a bright fragment. It was a fragment from the North Star, shining brilliantly in Lucky’s paws. Lucky’s smile grew and he knew that even if it was a dream, he had something he cherished very dearly now. The belief to achieve his dreams.

If anyone didn’t realize it while reading my story, it was heavily inspired by the movie The Polar Express, as well as various other stories. Thanks for reading!
 
4:30am.

I've long since given up the pretext of continually sweeping my floors. After all, the Island Representative is long asleep, and the other villagers too. It should be safe to take one last trip around the shores of beaches I called home these last, glorious six months. Glancing quickly at my worldly possessions safely tucked away in boxes, I slip out

The air is crisp, Toy Day a distant memory as the calendar moves slowly through January. Snow falls softly as the moon is headed towards setting, dawn a couple of hours away. I make my way to my favorite locale, a spot on the eastern sands where the Island Representative helpfully placed chairs and a telescope from which I could look upon distant shores.... in fact, it was only two days ago that thinking about those shores led me to my current predicament.

4:40am.

I had been looking at a particular island for a good portion of the morning when I headed towards the square in front of resident services. Thinking deeply, I considered, "why not try a change? New scenery, new Island neighbors, surely the grass is greener over there... or at least less overshadowed by garish diner signs." Suddenly the Island Representative made a beeline for me. Surely he saw I was deep in thought? So when he asked, I told him... I wanted a change, a new place to explore. A new experience. Strangely enough, he said I should go, and fulfill my dreams! I was ecstatic! I told him thank you for the helpful advice, and it was time to pack.

Thinking back now.... was there a smirk, a grin as he helped me on my way...? Did he want me to leave? Now, only a few minutes before I go, these thoughts, second guessing, begin to prey upon my mind.

4:50am.

Not much time now. I lift my head up towards the sky, letting the soft, pre-dawn snowfall touch my cheeks, my eyelids. My nose. So cold, and yet so refreshing. My mind clears and I begin to think of what's to come. I've spent so much time packing, preparing to leave, that I don't even know how I'm supposed to go. Do I fly? I don't have a ticket. I'm sure I would have a ticket if I'm flying DAL! Do I sail? I'm not sure I've ever seen a boat for passengers at the dock... in fact the only boat I know of is piloted by the dodgy fox who always tries to unload artwork. Does a portal open in the heavens...? I shake my head... I think the cold is starting to affect my brain.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure HOW I'm leaving the island...

Sometimes, when the Island Representative is asleep, the other villagers and I would talk. I had never experienced another island before, but Huck had. He told me about the process he experienced... he said that he had ended up in a dark, distant, soul-crushing place called the Void. "Psssht, yeah right" I said, "there's no way the Island Representative would have treated you like that." But he just looked at me and glanced away, a shiver in his eyes.

4:55am.

I begin to panic. I hadn't thought of how I was going to leave the island. Why had I not thought of that before? Where AM I GOING? Am I going to the island at the other end of the telescope? I have dreamed of the grass there, the villagers there. The food. The music. Seeing K.K.
in another venue. Are they experiencing winter now too? Or another season?

Or am I just going to vanish in 5 minutes? Is the Void real? Could it be that my destination was to be the deep darkness... only to survive if someone asks for me. What IS the Void? Can I escape?

Is it too late to change my mind?

4:58am.

I run. Rules about running through flowers be damned. Tears begin to form as I realize I'm not flying anywhere else but here. No one came to the island to get me, to ask for me to come to their island. I don't have a ticket to my dream island at the other end of the telescope. I don't have a ticket to anywhere. The Void calls... and I'm certain it calls for me.

I reach the house of the Island Representative. I look inside, no lights. I knock, as if my life, my very being, relies on it. I scream, cry at the top of my lungs for him to come out. I didn't mean it, I want to stay. Please... let. Me. Stay.

To live.

To dream.

But it's no use. He's not answering.

4:59am.

I turn around, and look, really LOOK at the island. The place that should have been my dream, not some fantasy at the other end of a telescope. I should have been happy... and stayed.

I turn... and look around. The neighbors' houses. My home. The Resident Services. Nook's Cranny. The museum. I loved living here. I regret wanting to leave it all, and I regret nothing about my life here.

And as I lift my eyes to the sky and let the snow fall on my person, I think.... I am alive. Whatever happens, this experience will not be lost. The snow clears my mind, and I think, I KNOW.

I will survive... and dream. And liv-

...
 
Its Toy Day, Again

It’s the end of the year and everyone’s favorite Holiday is here. Toy Day. Whoop-de-doo. I don’t know why Tom Nook threatens to go ahead and foreclose on my own home still, I’ve been doing this for around eighteen years, I don’t know why he thinks I would just up and leave now.

I got to get to Resident Services and fast!” Jingle thought to himself.

Jingle ran as fast as he could from the airport, since as you may’ve guessed, was not magic. This did not bother Tom Nook however, knowing that the residents would all be busy preparing for the day they’ve all been waiting for.

Reaching Resident Services with not a second to spare, Jingle let out a sigh of relief as Tom Nook peeked through the curtains with a chilling look on his face.

Everyone thinks Tom Nook has changed for the better, but he’s still the same as he was back in the big city” Jingle muttered.

Now that Jingle made it to the town square, he had to figure out how to give every single present to all the residents, putting in the least amount of effort as possible. Sitting on a bench and pondering what to do, Jingle was struck with an idea that could appease him and Tom Nook.

I got it! “Why don’t I just get someone to do my job for me” Jingle exclaimed.

And so, Jingle went to look for someone “kind enough” to carry out this great honor of giving presents. Not a moment later, he saw someone by an old cedar tree.

What is he doing?” Jingle thought.

Jingle watched as this person shook a tree for two minutes at a time, only to pick up a twig and do it all over again.

Perfect.”

Oi, Kid!” I mean *COUGH* “Happy holidays! I'm Jingle, the black-nosed reindeer! Isn't this the best time of the year, kid?”

The boy didn’t speak a word, instead just nodding his head in agreement.

“So, does that mean you’ll deliver all the gifts to the whole town? That’s Great!”

Elated at his great fortune, Jingle immediately gave the boy his sack of toys and a list of all the residents he had to go visit. The boy unfazed by this sudden duty, went to deliver each and every gift in record breaking time.

“Wow he’s better than me” Jingle said to himself as he watched the boy go house to house, cutting off each resident before they had the chance to make small talk with him. Soon the boy was done and came back to Jingle before the day had ended.

Golly, you’ve delivered all those wonderful gifts to everyone, I’m so happy you were able to spread the Holiday cheer!”

“Well, see you later.” Jingle said as he turned away headed to the airport.

The boy had stopped him though and held out his hand, asking for some sort of payment.

“Oh, I see… you want some form of compensation, don’t you?”

The boy shook his head up and down rapidly.

Jingle grew tired of this boy quick and just wanted him to go away, so he searched everywhere for something to give, but all he could find was a DIY scrawled onto a torn piece of construction paper he had the year before.

“Here you go.” Jingle said half-heartedly

The boy paused for a bit and put it in his pocket, seemingly pleased with what he had received. And so, the boy left, officially freeing Jingle from his least favorite Holiday of the year. Toy Day.
 
Phew, just barely making it! This story is inspired by my own anxiety about spending time with my family during the winter holidays, and how I always look at things way too negatively lmao.

DING DONG.

The doorbell rang out suddenly. My ears perked up, stinging from the sudden break in peace. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Time for company. It was Toy Day after all, and that meant visiting with those who were closest to me - my island family.

I popped open the door. Dizzy stared in, a big grin on his face - “HAPPY TOY DAY!!!” - he ran in and immediately plopped down on my Cute Sofa. He grabbed a Pear from my Fruit Basket and began to dig in, as I frantically ran around to get him a plate and napkin.

“Happy Toy Day, Diz. I thought Kyle was coming with you?” I handed him the plate over as I asked.

“Well you know him! He decided to play his guitar at home. He said he’d come by eventually. Maybe 10, 11. Maybe midnight, woo-oo!!” Dizzy grabbed the plate and another Pear.

DING DONG.

Well… I wasn’t feeling too excited about waiting up all night for Kyle to show up. I didn’t like not knowing when to expect him either. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Opening the door, a pair of perky blue and yellow ears greeted me.

“I am heeere, me-meow! Happy Toy Day, peasants!” Ankha purred as she walked in and joined Dizzy near the fruit.

“Hey Ankha, Happy Toy Da-” I started to close the door but suddenly felt it hit something hard. I turned back around to see a very angry looking Agent S staring back at me.

“What’s with this, sidekick?? Hey - I might be short but I’m not that short!” She kicked open the door a little harder and pushed past my legs. “Geez, give a squirrel a second to get in the door. I ran a whole lap around Resident Services before I followed Ankha in!”

“Oh, that’s right, darling. I was supposed to tell you that Agent S was right there with me. Oopsies!” Ankha seemed to giggle a little.

I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Um, okay. Sorry Agent, I didn’t mean to. Happy Toy Day, make yourself um… at home.” I looked at my quickly filling tiny house.

The three Islanders piled in, chomping on fruits and laughing. I let out a small smile - it was cramped and quickly getting messy, but it was still a pretty nice moment with my island "family". The peaceful moment broke….

DING DONG.

I cracked open the door, letting the cold air in. Outside was Snake, with a shivering Goldie right beside him. "Oh come get out of the cold you two!" I felt bad for my cold guests.

Snake jogged in, pumping his fists as he went. "Hey, bunyip, it's not so cold when you keep your body moving!" He continued to jog around the room, dragging snow throughout the house.

Goldie shuffled in behind him, "Not everyone likes exercise as much as you, Snake! It's way too cold out to be making extra laps, woof!"

I stared at the interior of my house. What was I thinking? Snow was everywhere, my Fruit was pretty much all gone, and there was barely room to sneeze. Hosting Toy Day was probably a mistake. Meanwhile, where were Wolfgang and Beau? Once they got here at least we could all put Ornaments on the Festive Tree and call it a night.

"Happy Toy Day you two," I closed the door to the cold outside and went to look for my Broom and Dustpan. My guests laughed joyously and enjoyed themselves as I swept up as much snow as I could manage. Feeling satisfied with the state of the floor, I began to plop down on the Cute Chair next to Dizzy.

DING DONG.

Of course… just as I was getting comfortable. Deep breath on, deep breath out. I can make it through this holiday!

I opened the door and on the other side stood an uncomfortable looking Wolfgang, arms crossed and a bit of a scowl.

"Hey kid, let me in, it's too cold snarrrl!" Wolfgang pushed his way in to my cramped house.

"Ah yeah, that's true Wolfgang! Happy Toy Day but um where's Beau?" I found myself concerned for our last missing guest as I closed the door.

"That crazy kid is napping. I tried to wake him up for thirty whole minutes, but he just kept napping!" Wolfgang helped himself to the Cute Chair I had claimed earlier. "Hey, kid, it's a bit tight in here! Better see Nook about an expansion hahaha!"

I sighed. "You're always right, W… it sure is tight in here! Maybe we should decorate the tree now that we're all here?"

The next few hours seemed to fly by. After everyone got comfortable and I dug out the Red, Blue and Gold Ornaments we all had a blast making the Festive Tree beautiful. I was able to forget about my too-small house, the snow on the floor, and all my Fruit that had been eaten. My island family was messy, but they were still my family and nothing beat spending Toy Day with them. Kyle even managed to show up at a halfway decent time, he brought along his Rock Guitar and sang KK hits.

Late in the night, I stood at the same door that had tormented me with the anxiety inducing DING DONGS earlier. I waved goodbye to all my guests, as they trekked back home through the snow. "Happy Toy Day! I'm so glad you all came over!" I yelled out to them as they departed. And I really, truly, meant it.
 

The Golden Treat​



Winter skies! It’s what Octavian enjoyed the most about that cold season. Soft or vivid, the colors painting the winter sky were always stunning, sometimes lagoon blue, golden sand or coral, or according to Zucker: cotton candy and lemonade, even when the sky was all white like sea foam, he could spend hours gazing at that new sea backstroke swimming in the snow or trying to make angels that in the end, looked more like frantic spiders. Today the sky was bright ultramarine blue with transparent jellyfish shaped clouds inviting him to dive into it.

- “It’s a beautiful day!” He shouted while stretching his arms.

- “And the weather is so nice!” Chimed in Diana. “Sometimes when the weather is freezing, I get beautiful, white, glittery eyelashes… but then, my nostrils stick together, and I can’t breathe! Ugh! So unpleasant…”

-“Today, the snow looks like a silky Italian meringue!” added Zucker. “It’s so smooth and shiny!”

- “Zucker is only thinking about sweets. You must be excited about that “golden treat” Aniko promised. Why did she want us to bring firewood, though?” Asked Octavian.

- “I hope the golden treat is not balsam fir resin; my cousin tricked me into eating some saying it was bubble gum when I was little. Yuk, I still have the chills just thinking about the taste.” said Zucker, shivering.

-“Here we are!” The three of them entered the little forest of Magical and started gathering firewood. In the air, a sweet and fresh scent of fir tree welcomed them, Diana’s favorite perfume; it always had a soothing effect on her mind and brought so many fond memories of past Christmases with her elders. She was imagining herself staying there all afternoon, basking in the sun and “photosynthesizing” when screams for help broke the spell. Zucker, who was overexcited and running in all directions, had accidentally left the path and was now stuck in a meter of snow with only his head emerging. At that sight, the two others burst into laughter and started taking photos of this embarrassing situation before helping him.

- “Seriously, what do you think the golden treat is?” Asked Octavian once they calmed down and got back on the path.

- “I think it’s a delicious peach cobbler or maybe apple pie still hot from the oven. Mmm… I’m already drooling.” said Diana.

- “Nah, I think it’s some seasonal beverage like apple grog with cinnamon and star anise. I feel warmer already.”

-“You are both cold; that’s not it. It’s crunchy caramel popcorn or honey candies.”

-“Anyway, let’s go! I think we gathered enough.”

They found Aniko in a little wooden shack at the edge of the forest. If it weren’t for the heavy smoke billowing from the chimney, it would have looked abandoned as it seemed so old and rickety, and what made the scene even eerier and mysterious was all those metal pails tied up to the trees around and filled with water.

“Maybe the trees are thirsty?” Shrugged Zucker.

From the door ajar, it was so steamy that they could barely see anything, then, like coming from a dream, they noticed her tiny silhouette; she looked like a little witch preparing potions in front of something that looked like large cauldrons. As soon as she saw the trio, Aniko ran happily toward them, rosy cheeks, curly and wet hair plastered on her forehead.

-“Did you bring the firewood? Excellent! Now, bring me those pails over there.” Zucker, Octavian, and Diana looked at each other confused.

- “What are you going to do with all that water?”

-“Ah…but it’s no ordinary water…” She said with a glint in the eyes. “Want to have a taste?”

The water tasted sweet and had a distinct but agreeable flavor.

She poured the content of the pails into the first vat and lit the fire underneath. In the two other vats were liquids already bubbling, but the steam made it hard to distinguish anything. Who knows? Maybe it was some effervescent swamp potion, but the aroma was so pleasant, really it had nothing to do with the rotten-egg smelly potion.

-“I went ahead and started before your arrival.” she said, showing the third vat. “Octavian, would you please call the other villagers? It’s almost ready. Zucker, I have another mission for you, see those wooden crates outside? Please take that ladle and fill them with snow, then press the snow with the spatula and make it as hard as ice.”

- “What are we making? A fort? I love snow forts!”

- “Hehehe…You will see.”

Zucker joyously filled up the boxes with snow, already thinking about what kind of fort it would be, probably one with many towers and a suspended bridge.

A little while later, all villagers were reunited around the wooden crates, packed with snow, and holding a small wooden stick, like a popsicle stick, that Aniko had just given them before going back inside. Zucker was so disappointed and looked sadly at his popsicle stick.

-“That’s not fair! She already ate all the ice pops! What does she want us to do with those sticks? Not other cards shaped like little houses again! We already tried that for the Christmas event and failed miserably.”

Aniko reappeared with a saucepan and started pouring stripes of amber syrup all over the snow.

“Oh no! Someone brings a plate or a bowl! What is she doing?! She’s spilling everything everywhere!”

Aniko then took a stick and rolled the cooled and hardened syrup around it to make a lollipop, then invited the villagers to do the same.

- “Dear villagers of Magical, thanks for coming today! Here is the golden treat I promised you!” She shouted proudly, holding her glowing and sparkling lollipop up to the sun like a trophy. “My precious maple taffy!”
 
It seemed like only yesterday that Lolly moved to Woxton, however, that wasn't the case. She'd already lived there for almost a year. She had heard about Woxton from several friends who'd travelled there for three-day stays. They always called her after their visit and raved about how nice the locals were and how they wished they could live there too. Woxton was always full and rarely able to accept new residents. Somehow, Lolly lucked out and found a spot! It was just a shame she wasn't having the same experience as her friends.

Lolly moved in around April last year, and even though it was spring and there were plenty of bugs and fish to catch, and several lovely places to stop and sing, or just sit and listen to the waterfalls, she had yet to leave her house. She had heard that there was a different type of bug floating around. One that you definitely did not want to catch. While most cats either find themselves at least entertained by bugs as possible friends or playmates, or perhaps a little over-enthusiastic to the point where playtime becomes mealtime, Lolly was generally friendly towards bugs. But she was terribly frightened of this bug - and with good reason.

Every morning, she looked out her window and yearned to go outside and meet her neighbors. She wasn't even sure if they knew she'd moved in. "I remember the fly-over from move-in day", she thought to herself. "There was a museum, a tailor shop, a cliff-top café, an outdoor music venue, an arcade, a zen garden - oh, how I wish I could visit these places!" She remembered from when she landed that there was a post office at the airport. She thought about writing to her family back home to see if they would let her move back. But then she thought about how she would never hear the end of it from her friends if she gave up her place on Woxton. "I just don't know if I could handle hearing them go on and on about how I should've stayed or how, 'If you left, you obviously didn't get out of the house enough.' How am I supposed to get out of the house with this bug floating around!", she thought to herself, and ended up finding herself talking out loud.

Lolly woke up the next morning, sat next to the same window that she always did, and watched the world happen around her. She noticed that it seemed to happen overnight that the leaves on the trees were changing colors. "I never knew time could move so fast and so slow, all at the same time. It feels like just yesterday, it was spring. Now, summer is a miss and it's already fall", she thought, gazing so longingly, that she fell into a daydream. "Maybe winter will quickly usher in spring and summer again, and all will be well. I suppose one can dream, bonbon." She chuckled as she realized that she had just called herself what her mother used to call her when she was a kitten. That put her in just the right spirit to curl up in bed and take a little cat-nap.

In what again felt like one day, fall gave way to winter and with winter came Lolly's first Toy Day on Woxton. "Oh, I do hope Jingle still visits with this bug floating around. Hopefully, at least HE knows I live here..." Toy Day came and went, and Lolly got a lovely new sweater from her mother. It was nice, but she didn't have the same festive spirit that she normally had during this time of year. It was rather dreary, and she didn't get to see her family. "This was not how I saw this year going", she thought. She decided that she would just allow this sentiment to keep her company for the season, and that spring and summer would be better.

As Lolly woke up, she went to her usual window and saw snow. "Still? How long has there been snow? It feels like it's been so long", she thought herself. It had been a long time, and it would still be here for about another month. "Snowed in...well, at least I can't go out anyway, because this bug is still around. Tough little bug, sticking around so fiercely during winter." Lolly found herself talking to herself out loud a lot more these days. Suddenly, she found herself yawning, "It must be time to go to bed already. I don't like the short days of winter, bonbon." She smiled and chuckled, noticing she did it again. She rather liked the nostalgia it brought though, so she didn't mind.

The next morning, Lolly sat by her usual window, snow still on the ground, but it was much brighter outside than usual today. She decided to spend a little more time window-gazing than she normally would. After all, what else was she going to do? Then suddenly, she did a double-take...was that? "Did someone just wave? Surely, they're waving at someone outside. No one even knows I'm here...but they're still waving. Should I wave back? I'll look so silly if they really aren't waving at me." Yet, as she sat there debating, she noticed she was already waving back before she could decide if she wanted to or not. She started to get nervous, as who she assumed to be one of her neighbors, was walking towards her window. Suddenly, there they were, tapping on her window, as if they were knocking on her door.

"Hi! Are you Lolly?" Lolly was stunned, "H-how do you know my name, bonbon?" "I'm Fox, the Island Representative! You've lived here for a long time, I've been so eager to meet you!" Lolly let out the breath she'd been holding in, and a smile started to creep over her face, "But, aren't you afraid to be outside with this bug floating about? I've been staying at home since moving in, because I'm so afraid. I'm so eager to experience the Woxton I've heard all about! I'm just waiting until the bug passes." "Oh yes, we are all terribly afraid of the bug!", Fox replied. "We all make sure we are at different parts of the island, and we even have a sign-up sheet on the bulletin board outside of Resident Sevices for the different island attractions! Able Sisters even sells masks now!" Lolly's eyes opened so wide, and her smile grew. She didn't know what Able Sisters was, because she'd never left her house, but she assumed it was the tailor shop. It would make sense. "Why don't you come with me, I'll safely take you around and introduce you to the rest of your neighbors," Fox said, as she motioned towards the outdoors.

Lolly nodded and grabbed her new sweater and he coat and hat. "Let me just check my mail quickly," she said. She opened her mailbox and it exploded with mail. "Oh my! Who is all of this mail from?", she asked. Fox had come around, and Lolly read her some of the names. "Oh, those are your neighbors!", Fox replied. "They wrote me? How did they know I was here, or know my name?", Lolly asked. Fox smiled, "They heard from some friends of yours that regularly visit our campsite that you had moved in and that you were having a hard time adjusting to a new island with this bug floating around. So they decided to write to you!" Lolly began to well up with tears of joy. Her friends were right, she knew this island was perfect for her and she hadn't even experienced it yet. "Come on on, let's go, Lolly!"

Fox and Lolly went all around the island, Lolly slowly trailing behind Fox. Partially because she was so in awe and was soaking in everything around her, and partially to make sure she actually kept her distance, since she knew she was getting excited. Her arm got so tired from waving at everyone, and from carrying home so many bags from Able Sisters and from Nook's Cranny. It was time she headed home though, and as Lolly walked up her sidewalk, she thought to herself, "What an amazing island, what amazing neighbors. I can't believe they all wrote me so many letters! I can't wait to read them all!" Lolly went in and curled up with her favorite blanket and started reading the letters. She felt so happy that she smiled and closed her eyes in joy, as cats do.

Lolly woke up with a smile on her face, covered in letters and her blanket. She'd fallen asleep reading them. She was so happy - she picked up a small stack and took them to her usual morning window seat to read them. Today, she saw sunshine and the beginnings of melting snow, and smiled. Everything was going to be okay.
 
First Snow
60 days into winter and not a sign of snow. "Patience" said Karnitas to a very impatient Marshal. Truth be told, Marshal's favorite season is winter when he gets to play in the snow and build snowmen, who in return would give him DIY recipes and large snowflakes. He blended in with the snow and would play tricks on his neighbors. All season, he's been sulking and demanding the Rock-Head Statue he hikes to daily a snow day.

Marshal was always mischievous and loves tormenting his neighbors. He made Marina cry after he slipped a donut onto her bed that she laid on. He also purposefully hid as a cloud in Pietro's home and when he jumped out to surprise him, Pietro nearly fainted and refused to speak nor even look at Marshal for over a month.

One evening, a most magical visit occurred.

While Marshal took a late night stroll pondering about what's next, he hit a wall (literally). "Ugh! Where did this come from?" He knew instantly it was Karnitas' doing. Karnitas was always making sudden changes to the island without anyone's consent, and can't say they're always the best decisions either. Marshal felt defeated, sat down and closed his eyes. Wait... do I hear jingle sounds? He never knew where the music playing overhead was coming from. He never asked.

The jingle became closer and louder, until it got so close it stopped. Marshal opened his eyes to the most peculiar reindeer. "I'm Jingle!" said the Santa-dressed Reindeer.

"Are you one of Santa's rejected reindeers?" asked Marshal.

"Ha! Oh, little marshmallow puff. No, but I'm here to bless the island of Westworld with my presence and to grant all the good villagers their wishes."

"What?! Including me?"

"Erm... let me check." Jingle shuffles through his questionably large white sack. "Sorry. Try again next year!"

"All I want is snow..."

"Have you thought about the root cause behind all of this?"

Marshal nodded no.

"You’ve been terrorizing your neighbors and you don’t have any friends left.” Jingle trotted away.

He didn’t realize it until he heard it from someone else how hurtful he was. Not even Isabelle or Karnitas were able to stop him and mostly because he was always Karnitas’ favorite. She coddled him and he always got what he wanted until now.

He went to the Rock-Head Statue that same night and vowed to never be so mean spirited to others again.

He went home and decided to handwrite and send letters of apology to everyone, including the hustler Tom Nook. His apologies were never sincere, but this time was different.

In the morning, all the villagers opened their inboxes to find letters and gifts from Marshal. They were overwhelmed with happiness and love. Marshal’s letters and thoughtful gifts were filled with truth. He asked for forgiveness and decided to treat others the way he would want to be treated.

Then that fateful night... first snow fall of the season. A tear fell from Marshal’s face as he peered through the window.
 
Adenville.
Population 12.
Elevation 3,000.

The snow fell in soundless rhythms. It added a coat to yesterday's layer and was no subtle reminder to Cain for what time of year it was again.

The days all blurred together now. When you live and drink the same every day, what's the need to call it Thursday? The time in his life when he counted and named his days weren't missed. The Mondays that dragged you to your schedule, during which you tallied the week every day until Friday afternoon, and the only days you didn't count were Saturday and Sunday. Time evaded him now. He had to count the Christmases to remember. He'd lived alone for four years.

Cain seldomly needed to go into the city. Largely, the ranch sustained him. The forest surrounded him with resources. He wasn't without thanks. He tended to a small couple patches of potatoes, tomatoes and carrots, and for each tree he fell, he planted another. Except during the winter.

He didn’t always hate winter. Olivia was in love with winter, and would fill with childlike wonder during the first snowfall. Cain had liked the season alright, but when he saw how her eyes lit up, he fell in love too.

But winters in the forest were barren, desolate. His first winter in the cabin had taught him what it really meant to live out on your own, what survival meant, what it cost.

The snow was his bane. The endless shoveling. Funny thing, how soft and light it appears though the weight of it wants to crush you whole.

That first winter he had underestimated the amount of wood he needed. He nearly underestimated all the supplies he needed, but the wood was the thing that nearly damned him. Going out of the cabin to fetch wood meant shoveling, and shoveling when you have no wood for the furnace meant you didn’t eat until you’ve dug yourself well enough out.
And sweating in a snowstorm felt like swimming with clothes on, if you were wearing three layers beneath a thick winter coat.

He didn't make that mistake again. Now, he knew about how much was needed to last, and built a stockpile ahead of time, starting the next summer.

The only times entering the city was necessary was for oil and propane. There were a handful of other things, razors, and other products, but he bought enough in bulk that it didn't need to be a regular trip. Six months was usually the right frequency but if he planned well enough he could make it for maybe even a year.

Today was one of those days. Knowing that, he started his morning early. He checked to see the time, and seeing the clock he realized there wasn't time to waste. He always went right when the store opened its doors at 6:30AM. Al, the shopkeep, was ever the early bird, or more like a rooster in terms of his personality.

It was about a half an hour trip. The drive was easily the most painless part of making way to the town. Something about listening to music on winding roads made them sound like you hadn't heard them before. He'd been on a lot of road trips with Olivia, and the memories stayed with him clearly, though something was foreign about them. He could have seen glimpses of her sitting in the passenger seat next to him, but he knew his vision was lying.

He put his thoughts away and kept his attention toward his surroundings. He knew he was a few minutes out, as he'd just passed the Adenville sign. He always found humor driving by that sign.

Adenville.
Population 12.
Elevation 3,000.

Most of the town thought he was long gone. That was his intention. But this town was a piece of her. And though he couldn't stay in it, he couldn't really leave either.

. . .

After being surrounded by the wood of the furniture in his cabin, of the trees, and even the cabin itself, his eyes welcomed the bright hues of the market. Before people arrived, shops weren't so unbearable. It's different in a small city. Everyone knows everyone too well, and it becomes a center for run-ins, and in Cain’s case, they were always unwanted.

“Cain? It's been a while. A long while.”

“Hey Al,” Cain nodded.

Al’s presence was oddly a comfort, despite his thickened beard and large frame. His brows were always slightly furrowed, even when he smiled toward Cain.

When Cain finished up his list, he was nearing goodbyes with Al until Al spoke softly, and it was strange to hear that from Al these days,

"I've got news, Cain."

"What's that?"

"Cain, you remember Emma, yes?" His daughter.

"Yes."

"See. Emma's doing well. She's had a baby. She was trying for some time, and it's no small deal. She's going back to work soon, and you know her husband didn't get any leave at all. She needs help. It wasn't easy, the labor was a scare. It was a slow recovery for her. Not been easy at all for us all. Her or her husband, or the wife and me. We've got a lot between us all. I wish I could have spoken with you sooner. But it's been awhile."

It was strange to see Al explain himself so much.

"Is the baby sick?"

"No, no. The baby is healthy, a girl. Her name is Bailey. She's got Emma's eyes."

"This sounds like good news."

"It is. But Cain, look. It's like I've said. She needs help. This is the part that's complicated. I've got to sell the shop,"

"Oh."

"We're moving to Vandermin. To help with the baby."

"Right, well, that makes good sense."

"You'll be alright, Cain. I'm sure."

“Yes, you and Emma too. And Bailey and all. I wouldn’t say it, but if I did, I’d say I’d miss you.”

Al let a hearty laugh out. It ended in a sigh.

“Cain. I’m glad to see you. I’ve been waiting for you to come in and, you know, I’ve been carrying this with me daily, and it’s heavy, in more ways than one. I never knew why ‘Liv thought I’d be able to tell.”

“What?”

Al reached into his coat and held an envelope with two of his fingers. He looked Cain in the eye and extended it to him.

“‘Liv asked for me to give this to you when you were “ready”. And believe me, she had no straight answer for what that meant. She said I’d know when the best time was. Well, I never did. But now that we’re moving, I guess that turned into now. I don’t know what it says. But Cain, promise me something.”

Cain didn’t move his eyes off the letter. He suddenly felt full of sand, heavy and lopsided. When his arm moved out, the sand moved with it, sliding back toward his joint.

“Sure, Al.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Sure. You and yours, too. Alright?”

“Yes.”

Cain thanked him and said goodbye.

. . .

The drive home was instinctual. His mind whirred faster than the blur of white and green that he drove through. His chest felt hollowed out, and he felt like he swallowed a cigarette whole.

. . .

Ready? The word was without meaning to him. He never was ready for her to leave this Earth without him. On that day he told himself that he died too, and he believed it, and it was true that a piece of him never left that hospital room.

He leveled himself with the table and the chair wobbled under his weight. He stared at its weathered and chipped mahogany.

The envelope had only his name on its face in small print. He sat at odds with it. But there was no “ready”, no “right time”, there was only now.

He held it carefully before opening the seal. The sight of her handwriting alone was tugging at something in his gut already. Cain took a breath. Held it.

And let it go.

The letter read:

“Cain,

I have written this letter again and again, and it's always about halfway through that I realize I'm rambling again and throw it out. I decided this is the last attempt, and if I do ramble about how I'm thoroughly convinced the apple sauce here is baby food or how Nurse Betty sticks needles in me like I'm a pincushion -- then, well, you get what you get. But here goes.

If I know you, and I think I do alright, you're holed up somewhere and you've convinced yourself you're doing well and fine enough on your own. I hope that is not true, and I've said the words out to you but they've always gone past you.

I've asked old Al a favor, to check in with you from time to time, and I know you're fond of him enough to not mind any of his harping. I know you wouldn't hear it from me now, and I get that. I really do. And you might not hear it even from him. I don't know. But there will be a point, where it won't be so bad anymore, and I hope that it's not far off. But that is when I need you to let me rest. I don't know if I've said what I mean to say in this. I just don't want you to fall so deep in yourself that you can't get out again.

You've got to get out of where you've dug yourself in, and fast, if not for yourself then for me. I don't want to leave you here with yourself, I don't want it to be so bad all the time while you've convinced yourself you don't need anyone or anything anymore. I don't want to be what pains you for your whole life, the idea of that hurts beyond anything that's happening now.

I need you to live your life, Cain. Beyond just surviving the day. Can you do that for me?

I love you. Always.

Olivia”
 
The Tolling of the Bells

Deep breaths. My hands trembled as I inserted the key within the lock, its mountainous grooves pushing against the pin tumblers, compressing each spring one by one. My heart slowed as the key finally gave way, turning and thus unlocking a new chapter in my future. At last the door opened, and I stood in the living room of one of only ten residences in the area. Closing the door behind me, the weightlessness in my legs suddenly began to be consumed by the sudden onslaught of gravity, forcing my knees downwards, only to be countered by a forceful explosion off of the floor. “I did it!” I exclaimed. “Morioh. I live in Morioh!” Blood began to recede away from my face as I began to settle into my new reality.

I reached into my pocket, grasping a handful of bells that filled its contents. Earlier that day, Tom Nook had given me this house under the promise that I pay him back not in dollars, yen, pounds, or pesos, but bells. I didn’t bother to ask the reason why residents paid with bells, or why these bells had any worth at all, as it didn’t change that living in this tropical paradise was a bargain.

Finally making my first steps outside of my “honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, oh my god it’s really true” home, I spotted one of the island inhabitants skipping around in her front yard. I approached my new neighbor, when she suddenly came to a stop. It finally dawned on me that where her eyes were supposed to be, was an empty abyss. Her mouth was of a similar, unending darkness. But nonetheless, she knew that I was there. I broke the awkward silence, stuttering an even more awkward, “Hi, my…my name is Hououin. W-What’s yours?” The emptiness in her lifeless eye sockets started to pull me in, only to be interrupted by the timid whisper of “Coco.” She turned back and hurried away dodging every obstacle in her path so perfectly and in defiance of the fact that she was blind. It was clear that she memorized the area around the island. Perhaps she was just shy.

I recoiled back to the confines of my new island home, still recovering from the turbulent flight earlier that day. Nightfall comes, and I lazily opened my eyes, hearing what I can only describe as the faint ringing of bells from outside the window. Eager to investigate, I hesitantly peered my head out of the door and see the back of Coco as it hurried across the bridge. I chased after her hoping to make a better introduction, but this attempt was ill fated as she had quickly disappeared into the night.

Nearly about to give up tailing my new reclusive neighbor, I ran into a ghostly apparition who quickly dispersed into other smaller apparitions. Oddly enough, I wasn’t taken aback by the fact that I had just met a ghost as I should have been. Perhaps it was because they gave a kind aura, but slightly sad. The ghost informed me that their name was Wisp. I then found myself on a quest to gather the fragments of its spirit that had scattered itself across the island upon my sudden intrusion.

Somehow, I later found myself in my bed, waking up to my first full day on Morioh. I decided that it was time to fraternize with some of my other neighbors. I started with the first house directly adjacent to mines, and meet with a lively, chipper goat named Chevre. She was happy enough to invite me in for tea, but it wasn’t long before I realized that her excited spurts of “Do come in” and “It’s so lovely to meet you” were feigned. She had kept glancing longingly at the photo above her bed, where a goat clad in black fur, rather than her white coat, smiled down at her. Between sips of tea, I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

Asking her if anything was wrong, I was presented a tale of her goatly friend, Nan. Nan had lived in my house just prior to when I had arrived, only to leave without even a goodbye, thus explaining that inescapable melancholy that Chevre exuded. They were soulmates, friends forever. I sip my tea, looking up at the photo of her recently deserting friend, when I saw what looked to be the reflection of Coco gazing through the window. I glance back but Coco isn’t there. Must have been seeing things. Chevre apologizes for ruining the mood and bids me farewell.

Night comes and I search for Wisp. I ran in search of my new ghostly friend, but try as I might Wisp isn’t there. No ringing of bells, nothing.

Night after night, I searched for Wisp, but Wisp is still yet to be found. Perhaps I dreamt the whole thing. I chuckled at the absurdity of looking for a ghost. I must have still been jetlagged earlier that day from the flight.

A little over a week passes by and I am finally done setting up my new home. I decide that I might pay Chevre a visit once again and see if she still needs cheering up. As I rounded the fence, I spotted Coco peering through Chevre’s window. I raised by hand as if to say hi, only to be embarrassed that I had forgotten that she can’t see me. Nonetheless, the quiet jingle of bells alerted Coco to my presence who then hurried away.

“One day, I’m sure we’ll be friends,” I thought to myself, as I slowly knocked on Chevre’s door. She opens it, greeting me with that same chipper character, only less chipper. She wasn’t trying as hard to hide her sadness this time. She was even more distraught as her old friend hadn’t tried to contact her. I comfort her and pondered the possibility that Nan wasn’t good at goodbyes and that she perhaps would contact her when she was ready. Chevre gave a slight smile and thanked me for my company. Glancing at the scattered mail, I glimpse an envelope stamped in red block letters…OVERDUE. She must be low on bells.

Night falls and suddenly I hear the slow ringing of bells. I rush out the door, eager to find Wisp. Once again, I saw the back of Coco hurrying across the bridge. Once again, I chase after her. And once again she disappears.

Alas, I spot my ghostly friend, only to startle Wisp into a scattering of glowing pieces of spirit. I apologize as I have already startled Wisp once before and should have known better. Wisp responded to the quip confused and doesn’t recall the event.

Regardless, it was up to me to fix this mess. Four spirit fragments later. One left to go. Searching the island, I see a soft glow through Chevre’s window. Going over to knock, I realize that the door was left ajar. I call to Chevre. Nothing. I call again only to be answered with repeated silence. I go in, concluding that I’ll just apologize later as Wisp needed the rest of their soul.

The next morning I check on Chevre. One knock. No answer. Two knocks. None. Peering through the window, I see an empty room. Its then that I see a “For Sale” sign, out of the corner of my eye. It dawned on me. Chevre had moved. Saddened by this, I decided that shouldn’t deter myself from befriending the other island residents.

I made my way to Roost’s Café where I meet an elderly villager named Dobie, sipping his coffee as he read the Sunday Times. I exchange pleasantries and bring up Chevre. He seems surprised that she moved without saying goodbye and says that she must have been saddened as Nan had did the same. Later, I bring up Coco and how she had been avoiding me. I asked if he would be able to introduce me as I feared that I hadn’t made the best impression. He looks at me in confusion. I repeat Coco’s name but his face draws a blank. Perhaps she was just the shy type.

I decide to bring him along so that we could both befriend Coco. She must have wanted friends. After all, it seemed she lived alone, and it is likely that she is lonely.

Finally at the house, I knock. Dobie takes me by the arm and reveals that no one has lived there for years. Tom Nook had forbidden anyone from staying there ever since its blind resident had died. It was then that Tom Nook had grown infatuated with bells, even turning it into Morioh’s official currency.

Legend has it that its resident wasn’t born blind and that she only went blind after selling her soul. Eyes are the window into one’s soul and thus she had lost hers. The story goes on to say that she wanders the island in search of a soul to replace that of hers. As a result, Tom asked that everyone always carry bells on their person. The jingle of the bells were said to ward off evil spirits, such as that blind resident. But absent of it, and you may hear a different type of bell, to some called the corpse bell, and to others, the death knell.
 
Ruby the moon rabbit was born to be a star. It’s not a goal – it’s a lifestyle. And this lifestyle continues even in the dead of winter. She starts her days before the sun at 7 AM sharp when she hops out of bed to stretch out her arms, legs, and ears before downing her morning coffee. And with that she hops on out the door with a pep in her step, ready to bring pop to the island of Nara!

Rudy lives right next to the museum so the first superfan she visits every morning is Blathers – the local professor of all things fish, bugs, rocks, you name it! Being an owl, Blathers can usually be found dozing off during the day so Ruby gives him a hand by greeting him with her pop star megaphone every morning to make sure he’s ready for any guests that may come in.

But Blathers isn’t Ruby’s only superfan on the island, so leaving the museum Ruby heads south to Nara’s booming downtown shopping area. She starts off with Tom Nook and Isabelle, the only ones in the island who wake up earlier than Ruby herself. After giving them her peppiest greeting, she heads on over to the Nook twins who catch her up on the hottest items of the day, then the Able sisters where she offers exclusive modeling for their newest designs fresh off the sewing machine.

This pop star is a bunny of the people, so after she’s done visiting the fine establishments downtown Ruby makes personal visits to all the houses on the island. She starts off with Fauna the deer, who is a morning person herself and is an avid reader. Ruby keeps her up to date on the latest trends, and Fauna lends her the best sellers of the week to keep her in the know. Then she heads on over to Rory the lion’s house where they exchange exercise tips. Rory teacher her how to get a six pack in her vocal cords, and Ruby helps him work-out choreograph dances for all his favorite songs.

After working up an appetite she heads over to visit Eric the moose – Nara’s local foodie. There she has lunch with him and Deirdre, who comes over every day to experiment with new cuisines every day. Just after lunch is Ruby’s only slow time in the day, and she spends it lounging with Diana the deer and Timbra the sheep, the snootiest residents of the island that teach Ruby about the elegance and grace that a diva must possess, and how to live with the luxury that comes with being a pop star.

Lounging in luxury can’t be rushed, so by the time Ruby leaves it’s usually already evening and Ruby to catch the latest episode of Maglevs in Love at her buddy and fellow soap opera enthusiast Raymond's house. By the time they're done squealing and recreating each scene for practice, she heads home and falls immediately asleep after a long day of being Nara's number one pop star.
 
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