[Faris]

Such heavy shoulders. Faris sympathised, but very little. He never quite understood how lovesickness worked. To have to go to such extents just to please another, driven by a need to have a place in another's thoughts; these were things completely foreign to the Zanaryan. Of course, he grew up knowing that his parents loved each other (to a degree), but he never saw either of them going so far as to commit a crime for each other. Then again, perhaps there were stories about Farouk and Nima in their youth or early days of marriage that he had not heard of. Something to ask big brother about in his next letter.

Faris did not derive any particular enjoyment out of making the lives of others miserable, but there were things to be said, an errand to complete, and a mystery to resolve. Faris looked away from Read, his eyes lazy wandering about the grove. "The wheelbarrow at the side with a slight dent on the rim, supposedly in the shape of a hydra - Miss Sully's. The watering can half-hidden in that undergrowth over there, with its green paint peeling from the bottom up - Missus Carbunkle's. The eleven-rung ladder leaning against that tree, brown-red in color and probably smooth in the middle of each rung should I go have a feel - Mister Armstrong's."

And he was back looking at Read himself. "And Arikio's hedge shears, am I right?"

[NPC]

Was the Zanaryan threatening him? A meaningless buzz filled Read's consciousness, as he struggled to react to the man's statements; he knew. And Read had known too, that the chances of being found out was high. He had hoped that nobody would notice the absence of the tools. It had not been the case. He had hoped nobody would mind missing a few shabby worn-down chunks of metal. It had not been the case. He had hoped nbody would launch a proper investigation or put up a reward just for measly shed supplies. It had not been the case. He had hoped nobody would find the grove. It was not the case. He had hoped that he would be able to complete the task without anyone finding out.

Oh, how wrong and foolish he had been.

Read had turned to face the Zanaryan once the man started to rattle off the list of stolen goods, but now he wished he had not. The sight of the Zanaryan's bland face, coupled with the puzzled one of his brother, was too much for him to take. The buzzing was getting louder, but he forced himself to speak through the noise. "...You have no proof." Both his words and voice were weak, even to his own ears, barely audible over the static in his head.

[Faris]

"Pardon? I am afraid I did not manage to catch what you were saying. Though I suspect I would have no idea what you were saying even if I had. Anyway, how lovely it is for the neighbourhood's shed supplies to be gathered here in this place and in relatively good condition! I had feared that they might be lying in pieces at the bottom of some ditch somewhere, probably within a pentagram drawn in chicken blood or the like." Faris' words were as if he was verbalizing thoughts that were directed to himself, and yet were not. The Zanaryan ignored the waves of increasing confusion radiating off the younger Therian beside him.

Then in a manner more to the point, "This little grove looks close to being finished; I think with your little brother's help you'd probably be done in one or two day's time? After which it would be a very pleasant surprise, an early Xanth Day to speak, for these missing tools to turn up at their owner's doorstep anonymously—well maybe not all anonymously, seeing as how I'll probably need to turn the ladder in to Armstrong personally. I don't mind helping to deliver the rest of the goods too, if you don't feel up to sneaking back into people's sheds."

[NPC]

Zanaryans were weird, point-blank weird on top of their stink. That was the sole conclusion Read had after the man's ramble. Unfortunately, unlike his little brother, Read understood the general gist of it. He gave a noncommittal growl to Faris' suggestion, but his inention to comply was clear when he asked, "So, Carson. Want to help me with the grove? It's going to have to be kept a secret still though." Noticing that Read's eyes were practically sparkling, he added "It's hard work." To Faris he was much less civil, "Your business here is done, right? Get out already, you're stinking up the clearing."

[Faris]

Faris shrugged faintly at the way Carson ran over to his brother and started jabbering all sorts of questions, before expressing his own disdain for staying with a shrug. His job was about as good as done, and a self-reward of sundrop tea seemed like to an appropriate self-reward. He spoke to the Wynfendale duo one last time, "I'll be back in three days." before exiting the grove to leave them to their own devices.

---

"Greetings, Mister Armstrong. Yes, yes, this is your ladder." Faris handed over the bulky item. "I'm afraid you're mistaken; Mister Wynfendale, as it turns out, had nothing to do with the missing gardening equipment. I speak the truth; they were in a ditch, arranged around some bloody pentagram. I got quite the surprise when I saw them, really. But I don't think the magic circle worked, the blood was pretty dried up when I chanced upon it, and Espur still seems rather vlareon-free. No, I did not make a report to the town guard, I think they have better things to do than investigate failed rituals involving shed supplies. Now, it is almost tea-time, and I have a number of gardening tools left to distribute; have a good day, Mister Armstrong." Pushing a wheelbarrow laden with gardening tools, Faris left.

He was on the way to sending off the last item, Miss Sully's wheelbarrow, when a mop of sandy-brown shot towards and jumped into the wheelbarrow. "You do realise that it's dirty right?" The one sitting inside the wheelbarrow and making it annoyingly difficult to push along was none other than Carson. The Therian child was grinning in the same way as on their first meeting, and Faris could only sigh in exasperation. In a spur of curiosity, he asked how the Wynfendales were faring.

"Well, the pretty nymph lady seemed happy when she saw the grove me and Read made; she even thanked me and called me cute hahaa! And Read told Father about the grove... Father wasn't happy but he didn't rage about it either; well he did rage, but it was a really short rage. Might be because the pretty nymph lady was there. Father seems to be warming up to her..oh and we told Father about you too!"

"What." Faris frowned. He had wanted to end everything cleanly, but apparently the Wynfendale brothers had other ideas. "So. He's raging at me now?"

"No no! Father says thank you and offered have you over for a meal. Except Read keeps saying that you stink, well you do stink but that's just mean, and so Father says we'll have the meal in the grove instead. Open-air would help reduce the smell, he said." Carson looked up and expectantly at him, "So. You're gonna go right? Right, right? I mean, you've been there before but everything looks super different now, really."

"Oh, I'm sure... And much of it is to your credit am I right?" Faris slowly raised his grip on of the wheelbarrow's handles, letting it tip forward till the front lip touched the ground. "Get out, you. I'm not driving you around like some nursemaid with a pram." The young Therian refused to budge, even if he had to cling onto the sides of the wheelbarrow to stop himself from sliding out. "Che. Yes okay I'll have lunch with the lot of you, say two days from now. Now get out." Carson finally tumbled out of the wheelbarrow, springing to his feet even before he stopped rolling."Okay I'll go tell Father!" Beaming brightly, he waved goodbye and then ran off.

Faris' own wave was a weak halfhearted one. Resuming the final leg of the errand, Faris continued pushing the wheelbarrow. Lunch with a group of Therians and a Nymph... Faris sighed, and mentally intoned how wonderful and great the reward was in an attempt to lift his spirits.

[THREAD END]