27 - Seasonal Intermission!

“Phew, it’s gotten hotter these days, hasn’t it Woolie?”

“Beh…”

Spring passed in the blink of an eye, ushering in the rising heat of the summer.

Though summer in the highlands didn’t reach the scorching levels of Earth, I changed into sleeveless clothing for the mood regardless.

“Thanks for helping again today, Woolie.”

“Meh!”

Without the natural refrigeration of winter, hoarding supplies was no longer an option; back to daily foraging for me.

Woolie’s favorite dandelion flowers—or rather ‘poppolia’ as Granhilda informed me, grew in abundance during the summer, so I made sure to pick as much as I could.

I placed the basket full of herbs onto the kitchen counter and stretched my limbs, staring at the calendar perched on the wall.

On top of the sapling, Granhilda also left behind a bunch of curiosities; mainly a few books, some of which were empty and writing materials, including this calendar. Best part was, it displayed only numbers so even someone like me could read it.

I had no idea how to pronounce them yet, though.

Turns out, days worked a little different from Earth. While there were still twelve months in a year, each had exactly thirty days, making a year three-hundred and sixty days instead. A week was also ten days instead of seven, which took some getting used to.

I found myself awaiting Granhilda’s return everyday, despite the fact she said she’d be busy. That eagerness gradually faded over the month, and by now my expectations had reverted to zero.

At the very least, I now had a rough idea of the world around me. Namely, the city I’d been waving and yelling to—Forehaven—in all likelihood wasn’t a place I’d want to visit. Rustal seemed the place to go if I ever decided to leave the highlands, but I couldn’t see it from up here. Granhilda didn’t leave me a map; it was probably too valuable an item to be given away to someone like me.

As for the books, I couldn’t figure out what they were depicting. While the various artworks did inspire some awe in me, I found myself more interested in drawing the herbs and fungi I’d foraged so far into one of the empty books, slowing making a herbological compendium on my own.

There were no convenient pens here; Granhilda supplied me with the classic quill and ink, something I found to be quite unwieldy.

Scratch scratch.

It was a fine atmosphere; I’d spend nights with my head bent over the table, scribbling on the thick parchment illuminated by a mana-lit lantern. The silence was broken only by the scratching of quill on paper, and I quite liked that.

It also finally rained a little, setting the perfect mood.

Overall, summer was uneventful. With Mister B and Kikko’s presence, I’ve had zero encounters with monsters since winter, so I didn’t have a chance to put my training into practice for real outside of training with Mister B.

To pass the time, I decided to start my very first large-scale project; a barn.

To be precise, it was a big shelter for Woolie and his friends to stay in during the winter. For that I needed a lot of wood, and the Screeching Forest provided. When I wasn’t spending my time training or foraging, I was hacking away at tree bark with my blades. One even shattered with how much I was using it, to my dismay.

Then Mister B brought another boar to me.

Recently, he’d picked up the habit of bringing wild game to my home. I’d prepare a portion for him to bring home to Mrs. B and the little cub, and he’d simply give me the rest, ensuring I had a supply of sharp blades at my disposal.

I did want to try smithing at some point, but that was too advanced for someone with no prior knowledge, nor the tools to work with.

I made sure to closely watch the plant Granhilda entrusted to me. It grew alarming fast; only a month and already as tall as I was. I still had no idea what Granhilda left me with, but from the way its stem spread like branches, I assumed it’d eventually grow into a fruit tree of some sort.

Once I got into the routine of it all, time passed in a flash. By the time I’d finished constructing the base of the barn, summer was already over, and the familiar autumn winds began blowing in.

*

“Hooty, could you nuudle ‘ice fishing’ for me, please-”

“Hooty, nuudle ‘spear fishing guide beginner’-”

“Hooty, which episode we were on again?”

“Hooty, let’s watch some fighting game clips again. I wanna try copying their moves-”

“Hooty! It’s time for our movie marathon-”

“Hooty-!”

… I’m in danger of turning into a recluse.

I lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of nature outside.

“… I’m bored.”

Autumn was here, and with it came the long and arduous process of winter preparation.

Except I now found the task trivial. Having spent my entire existence here doing the exact same things over and over, survival was no longer an urgent matter.

I was on track to have one crate of every important herb by winter, ensuring I had more than enough medical supplies on hand. Solid soup kept for a very long time, and I made so much I could drink a bowl every day of winter, and still have half leftover.

The only thing missing was a stock of boar meat, but my plan was to get Mister B to hunt them down right before winter to ensure they received the full refrigeration from the freezing temperature.

Which left me with little to do for the next month or so. The barn was making good progress; though it looked more like a giant, wooden box, it had four walls and a roof along with partial heating thanks to Woolie and friends’ generous contributions of wool during the summer.

It felt as if I’d gotten too good at surviving in the highlands, that or I’d been extremely lucky. I spent the remaining days of autumn knitting clothes for myself, future-proofing my inevitable growth spurt of puberty with the wool I had on hand.

Woolie shed so much wool I could literally bounce on my bed; it was so hot during the summer I had to store them in the barn. While it ensured I never had a lack of materials, I really had no need for so much wool.

“Maybe Granhilda’ll take them off my hands. I wonder how much moffa wool sells for… What even is money in Allstoria?”

I hadn’t seen nor heard from Granhilda, and I assumed she wouldn’t be flying around during a snowstorm either. I’d already memorized the alphabet of this world in anticipation for Granhilda’s return, but it seemed I’ll have to wait a while longer.

In the meantime, I binge watched several movies with Hooty in my mind palace. Though I justified it as ‘getting inspiration’, I really just wanted to sit back and relax for a change.

All this to say, living in the highlands was a cozy, but ultimately mundane lifestyle.

And just like that, the autumn weather froze, giving way once more to the harsh, frosty gale of winter.