Squinty, Skinny Men and Boisterous, Fat Men

 “This way!” Fawn says, pointing at the dirt road ahead of us. “We just need to follow the road until it reaches a fork. Then we go the right way!”

“And the right way is?” I huff.

“Where the right way is,” Fawn replies cheerfully.

“Wow, Fawn, wow.”

“Don’t worry! There are signs! And I go this way all the time!” She skips ahead.

“S-s-slow down!” Ann is struggling behind us to keep up. She’s lurching forwards, having figured out how to walk but not how to do it smoothly.

I’m in the middle. We’ve only been walking about five or ten minutes but I’m already half-dead. I flop forwards, letting my arms dangle.

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes! I mean no!” Fawn points at a fork in the road that looks around five gazillion miles away. How long is a mile?

***

“We… made it…” I lean against one of the wooden poles holding up a large wooden sign announcing ‘Welcome to Stonebridge!’ and pant dramatically. I think we’ve only been walking for around 20 minutes but it’s killing me.

“I don’t like this,” Ann grumbles. “Something is watching us.”

“You’re so paranoid,” I say with a wave of my hand. “How would you know anyway?”

“I lived in the forest, remember?” Ann snaps. “You learn how to tell when something is watching you.” She’s finally figured out how to walk in a somewhat normal way.

“Don’t worry! Fawn shouts from ahead. “The people in Stonebridge are super nice!” She scampers forward energetically. Ann jogs after her.

“How do you two have so much energy?” I moan.

Stonebridge has a lot more people, and the buildings are more practical and less whimsical than in Summer Falls. But it doesn’t make the place feel any less welcoming.

Everyone greets us as we walk by, and overall the vibe is similar to Summer Falls, besides the appearance and the loudness. But in Summer Falls, people greet each other because they know each other. Here, they seem to greet each other out of courtesy or politeness. Granted, that doesn't mean it’s better than Summer Falls. They both give off cozy and kind vibes. Summer Falls is just a little calmer.

And did I mention how loud it is? The streets are lined with food carts and market stalls, people shouting and promoting their wares. It’s different from Summer Falls, where everyone has their own building or shop.

Fawn forges ahead with total confidence, occasionally beckoning to us and scurrying ahead. Ann and I are both, for once, in total agreement that Fawn is a superhuman.

“Over here!” she shouts, waving us over to a large stall that consists mostly of potted plants similar to the ones growing by the apothecary’s house at Summer Falls, and a few suspicious-looking jars and bottles of thick liquid/sludge.

“Hi, Mr. Aola!” Fawn yells. “Miss Apothecary sent us to get stinging nettles! And I brought friends!”

A skinny, gangly man with a thin mustache emerges from the shadows. His eyes are narrow and squinty, and he seems to be glaring.

“...he looks mean,” I mutter to Ann, who looks like she actually agrees with me. She’s been on edge since we entered the town.

“Why hello, Fawn!” the man shouts boisterously, shaking her hand enthusiastically. His voice is louder than pretty much everyone else in the street, but no one bats an eye and the hubbub continues. “Why hello, young ones! I am Mr. Aola, the town’s apothecary! Who are you?”

I blink. With his voice and mannerisms, he could pass as a jolly, fat old man. “I’m Sophia. Um… I’m-”

“She’s from a place reaally far away!” Fawn yells. “And this is Ann! She’s also from a very far away place!”

“Hello, Sophia! Hello, Ann!” Mr. Aola booms.

“It’s Anthe!” Ann practically sobs.

“Oh, my apologies, young lady!” the man shouts. “I shall not make that mistake again!”

“Mr. Aola, we need stinging nettles!” Fawn yells. The two of them have a similar energy.

“Stinging nettles, of course!” Mr. Aola hurries into the depths of his stall. “Fawn, could you help me find them?”

“Okay!” Fawn scurries after him, leaving me and Ann standing awkwardly by the front of the stall.

“He’s a bit much, isn’t he?” a passing woman says sympathetically. “Don’t worry, you get used to it after a while.” She hefts her basket, laden with things from the stalls around us. Mostly cleaning appliances. “You get used to the town after a while, too,” she adds. “You’re new here, right? Just moved in?”

“Uh, we’re just visiting,” I reply nervously. Ann is chewing the side of her cheek, trying to act like she doesn’t exist. “The apothecary in Summer Falls needed some materials from Mr. Aola.”

“Oh, the apothecary,” the woman says disdainfully. “I don’t know how Mr. Aola stands her constant demands. An apothecary should take care of themself, you know? Do me a favor and tell her how demanding she’s being.” The woman glances up at the sky. “Goodness, look at the time. I should get going. I told my wife I’d be home by noon.” She hurries off and vanishes into the crowd.

“A wife?” Ann says, having stopped chewing her cheek.

“You think it’s weird?” I ask.

“It’s not weird,” Ann replies. “It’s just unnecessary. A doe can’t reproduce with another doe. There’s nothing wrong with a doe having a deep romantic relationship with another doe, but it’s unnecessary to completely mate.”

“I guess that’s true,” I reply. “But I guess things for deer and things for humans or elves are different.”

“I suppose.”