>Note to self: Consult with Marissa or Minoriko on the prospect of creating pies with long-lasting freshness for Seekers everywhere.
>You make a note to investigate the possibility of merging the best qualities of both traveling rations and pie. Of course, you're not sure you'd trust any pie Marisa baked not to accidentally explode. Check that:
intentionally explode. And while Minoriko is both an accomplished cook and a harvest goddess, you're not sure if her powers extend to imbuing food with unnatural freshness
after it's harvested. Certainly the meals served at the Harvest's Bounty are normal fare, albeit well-prepared.
>Is there any way to get to the guild without passing the melon bowl?
>Being a sizable town, there are paths to get to most places while avoiding specific other places. However in this case, the guildhall is nearly along the main route from the town entrance to The Melon Bowl, so it would be no trouble at all to go there first.
>Journey on.
>You journey onward, slowly and haltingly making your way back towards Braston. Noon comes and then goes, though the day remains misty and with just a hint of chill among the late Summer warmth. Honey soon enough gets tired of driving - perhaps the novelty wore off - and you take the reins back. Not that the horse requires much of you on this trip. Your detour to the fairy village was during the time window that a lot of the regular shipments from Easthaven would have passed the bridge, so you have the road to yourself for much of the trip - perhaps for the best, given the strange looks Cirno would undoubtedly draw. Honey handles the uneventful trip rather less quietly than you, fidgeting and then nattering on and periodically asking questions like "Are we there yet?" or "Is being a sidekick always this boring?". Despite yourself, you do find it wearing on you after a while.
>Every now and again, Cirno stops for a break, plucking things from the back of the cart and chomping down on them with a loud declaration of "Even heroes can't work on an empty stomach!". Being a fairy, you're not certain that's especially true, but you decide it would be too much hassle to debate the point. Honey tentatively asks if she could have some too, and Cirno magnanimously tosses her a couple kiwis and a melon which nearly bowls the smaller fairy over as she tries to catch it. After a few moments of struggling comically with the unwieldy fruit, you offer to simply cut it for her and she splits it with you in return. While the fruit is technically stolen property at this point, you figure you can just write it off as part of your delivery fee and dig in.
>More time passes, and you start to pass some carts traveling away from Braston. A couple are probably headed towards a few of the outer mining camps - oni traveling among them are a dead giveaway - but a few are unmistakeably farmers returning from market. To say that Cirno draws strange looks might be an understatement, particularly given her flamboyant pronouncements by way of greeting. The other travelers gazes fall uncomfortably even on you as you pass; you greet them nonchalantly, but there's only so much you can do to compensate for Cirno, and whispers trail behind you as the farmers carry onward. You can imagine more than a handful of things they could be saying which bring a frown to your face. Still, whispers and glances are about all the interaction amounts to as you close in on Braston. At least until a large cart driven by an older man draws near to Cirno.
>At first, the furtive glances and whispering between him and the two younger farmers flanking him seemed like nothing more than what you've come to expect from everyone you pass. With a sigh, you'd simply wished that this trip could be over with. However, as Cirno approaches, he swerves his cart in the way of her path, forcing her to ineptly bring her own cart to a stop. Frankly, the fact that she didn't simply crash was more her horses' doing than her own.
>"What's the big idea!" Cirno cries, rising in her seat.
>The old man locks gazes with her. "Step away from there," he says sternly. His face is grim and severe, and quite hale-looking despite his age. You think he's also a little familiar looking. You note the other farmers gripping a pitchfork and spade, respectively. Their expressions lack his sternness, but the tension writ on them is unmistakable.
