“Ice-cream!” calls Fresh, helping Basil push the cart along. “Come get your ice-cream!” She looks around the street. It doesn’t look like there are any takers. They had been outside for about an hour now. Since no business was coming to them, they had decided to take their business to the people.

However, with the cloudy, gray weather hanging over their heads, the mood-dampening wind still howling through the city and the lack of adventure, giving the closure of both the beach and the dungeon, there just doesn’t seem to be a sense of action anywhere to be found. Let alone anyone who wants ice-cream.

Fresh sighs.

“It was a good try,” consoles Basil. “But I think until the weather straightens itself out and the beach reopens, we might be out of luck.” Fresh frowns, looking at her and then down at the cart. The two of them had spent all morning making a small, wooden cart with crystal-drakonium lining on the inside, in which they had ready-packed balls of ice-cream, as well as other snacks and drinks. But, the streets, while not empty, certainly lack any adventurous flair to their wanderers.

Basil reaches into the cart, pulling out a pair of popsicles. “Here. On me,” she says, handing Fresh one. The two of them stand there, leaning against the cart, watching the town walk past them.

The popsicles were a really good idea and honestly one that was so obvious that she didn’t see it right in front of her face the entire time. It wasn’t until someone had come to their window, asking if they sold frozen coconut-water too, that the idea came to her.

So in a sense, today has been a very productive day so far. But in another, it hasn’t.

“Thanks, Basil,” says Fresh, the two of them strike their popsicles together and watch the world go by. “How do you like it here?” asks Fresh, trying to make small-talk. She doesn’t want to go home and rot there just yet.

Basil thinks for a moment, though she doesn’t exactly carry the impression of a great philosopher as she nurses the coconut-popsicle. “It’s okay,” she says. “Honestly, I liked uh…” she looks around, but then shrugs. “I liked the west more,” says Basil. “It was cozier, I suppose?”

Fresh nods, understanding. The mountain and the cold certainly brought an ambiance with it that was hard to identify. Maybe it was because of the great heights of the mountain and the seclusion of it. Or maybe it was because of the security and ‘solidity’ of their home, literally carved from solid rock. Or maybe it was just because it was, despite its troubles, the place she feels she has grown the most in so far, but the west was really a very cozy, homey spot.

Once she gets past the horrible way the people there treated the fairies that is. Not including the ‘bullying’ that she went through, if it could be called that. Though, she doesn’t want to place those things on the same scale of harm.

“What about the other place?” asks Fresh, knowing better than to say the word.

Basil shakes her head. “My ranking is the west, then the east, then the other place,” she says.

“We’re running out of places,” sighs Fresh. “I like it here too though, it’s a lot more, uh…” she looks around, trying to find the word to describe the way she feels about the vibe. “Relaxed?” she guesses. “People aren’t so uptight here. I think it’s the sun.”

“Mm,” nods Basil. “Well, except for now.”

“Yeah…” sighs Fresh. But then she smiles, tasting the sweetness of her popsicle. “Hey, Basil?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad that we could be friends,” admits Fresh. “So I guess all of my bribery worked, huh?” she asks. “I was super scared when we ran into each other, back then,” says Fresh. “Outside of your, uh… old home.”

Basil laughs. “You really don’t have a problem saying things like that, do you?” she asks, pulling on her sleeve with a free finger.

Fresh shakes her head. “No, I do,” she admits. “It’s really hard sometimes,” she says. “I used to never be able to say or do anything that I wanted, because I was always scared that the person I wanted to get to like me would think I was weird,” she explains. “And then my hands would get all sweaty and I’d feel my heart beating and I’d cry and it was really bad, Basil,” exclaims Fresh, leaning in sideways towards the priestess.

“Yeah…” says Basil, looking away. “I still get that now, actually.”

Fresh tilts her head, eating her popsicle and staring at the side of Basil’s face as she watches some random crowd, as if they were particularly interesting all of a sudden.

“But you should do it anyways, Basil,” says Fresh. “Even if it’s scary.”

“You think?” asks the priestess, looking back her way.

“Mm,” nods Fresh, looking at a random crowd herself now, that she now pretends to find particularly interesting. “All adventures end eventually, right?” she asks. “That’s what the others said.”

“Yeah,” agrees Basil in a solemn tone.

“Then you’ll regret it, if it does and you didn’t say and do everything you wanted to do,” explains Fresh.

Basil thinks for a second. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?”

“I have a lot of free time while doing chores,” laughs Fresh.

The wind blows past them, pushing through the crowded, busy street as it encapsulates them and in that second, Fresh has the oddest sense of déjà vu, as if this conversation had happened before already, in some form or another. She blinks, shaking her head and getting the odd thought out of it. “Wanna go home and bug Jubilee?” asks Fresh.

Basil nods. “How come we never bug Shamrock?” asks the priestess. Fresh grabs the cart and thinks for a second, not pushing it just yet.

“Uh… hmm…” Fresh ponders, staring at the cart. “I don’t think I know how to bug Shamrock,” she explains. “He’s unbuggable. Besides -” Fresh raises her gaze to Basil. “Jubilee likes being bugged.”

Basil laughs. “Sometimes I wonder about that.”

The two of them push the cart back. The staircase was bad enough to get it up, but getting it down is going to be a real pain too. “So how come you two always fight?” asks Fresh. “You and Jubilee.”

“Hmm…” Basil thinks out loud for a moment. “You know, maybe it’s just like the thing you were talking about before,” she suggests.

“Huh?”

“You know, when you want to do something, but then you do something else instead because you’re too nervous to do the first thing?” asks Basil.

“Mm.”

Basil adjusts the cart towards the left, to avoid a stone on the road. “It’s like that.”

Fresh nods, understanding. “But you’re not really fighting, right?”

Basil shakes her head. “No, not at all. We get along great, you know?”

The two of them head back home, going through a fairly substantial struggle to carry the little cart back down the stairs towards the beach. Thankfully, the staircase is empty and they don’t have to work their way around any people.

“We’re home!” calls Fresh as they step into the store, no response. But that’s expected since everyone is upstairs.

“Let’s unload the ice-cream,” suggests Basil. Fresh nods and the two of them unload the wares from the cart back into the cooling-cabinet. “We’ll try the cart again on a better day, okay?”

“I sure hope so, Basil,” says Fresh. “After all the work we put into it.” She sighs, rubbing the wood of the thing for a moment. Blinking, she looks down at the ground and picks up a piece of old, dried out sea-weed. They must’ve dragged it in yesterday or today. Beach life is really messy. She throws it away and the two of them head upstairs.

“We’re back!” calls Fresh. Shamrock is laying in his bed, with a hand held up into the air. Jubilee sits at the table.

“Please leave again,” replies Jubilee, not looking up from their book. Basil walks in past her to the table and takes the book from their hands. “Hey!” barks Jubilee. The priestess sets the book down and hugs Jubilee. “Can you not touch me in public?” asks Jubilee. “Or ever?”

“Sorry, I missed you,” says Basil.

“What? What the fuck? You two were gone for an hour at most.”

“Mhm,” nods Basil.

Feeling Jubilee’s gaze on her, Fresh scratches her cheek and shrugs to signal that she doesn’t know what’s going on either and then makes her way over to Shamrock’s bed. “Hi, Shamrock!” she says. “Scoot!” she requests, gesturing for him to make space for her, so she can join him.

He turns his head towards her. “No.” Fresh gasps.

“Please?”

“No.”

Fresh frowns, looking at him. It’s unusual for Shamrock to deny a request of hers. “Okay. Sorry,” she says, scratching her cheek, looking around herself for something else to do. Jubilee and Basil are busy doing whatever it is they’re doing. Maybe she could cook lunch? But she isn’t really hungry… hmm…

Maybe she could make some items for the store?

Well… that isn’t very fun. It’s not like they’re going to be able to sell them for a while.

“I bet you’re bored too, huh?” asks Fresh, looking back at him. He nods. Without the store and the dungeon, Fresh bets that the man just doesn’t know what to do with himself. Those are his two biggest things.

She sighs again, walking away towards the workshop. On the way there, she stops to wipe a scuff off of the floor. It looks like a small burn mark.

Did she drop some grimpowder here? She doesn’t remember. Oh well. Shrugging, she heads into the workshop, sure that she can find something to make.