The sun was shining.

Blabberjays twittered.

Haru chewed on the mint chocolate chip bark from a mint chocolaty tree that grew along the path of Thornmoor Park. A cold fire filled her nose, and the bittersweet chocolate sat like a lacquer on her tongue. She would have stripped the mint chocolaty tree for all the bark she could carry if not for the basket of golden gummy fruits she had to deliver. Perhaps on another day. A picnic maybe.

The golden gummy fruits were spoiling fast. The signature golden tone was fading quickly like a slow dying lightbulb. And the velocimantis ranch was on the other side of the gummy forest. Haru had to keep them covered under chunks of minty bark. Fruit flies were buzzing around, attracted to the sweet scent of pulpy flesh. For the longest while they hounded Haru and her basket, no matter how much she tried to wave them away. It was only when she found the minty bark did the fruit flies finally buzz off.

The last bite of bark in her hand was greasy and sticky. She popped it in, then licked her thumb and forefinger clean. A bolt of inspiration struck her like a blow of lightning. An entrepreneurial design that would surely rake in the bouillons. Imagine such a treat on a snowed-in day, a hot mug of minty chocolate as a winter drink. That part of the market was practically untouched. Well, not really untouched. Regular chocolate did exist on the market, however, it was more sweetened chalk than anything else. It made her tongue feel gritty after just a bite.

As she mused on the possibility of becoming stinking rich, a traveller appeared on the path. That gave Haru some pause. She reached for her short sword. It could be another city goon looking to steal her goods. She gulped. At times like these, she wished that KD was with her instead of paralyzed at the golden gummy tree.

The mysterious figure drew closer.

Footfalls echoed upon the cracked pavement.

A billow lifted up the long hem of the high collar drifter jacket.

Underneath was the glimpse of an axe blade, glinting in the sun.

Haru blew out a breath as her shoulders relaxed. She recognized that face anywhere. Or at least the upper half of it that was not covered up by the high collar. There was only one person she knew who had piercing green eyes and an updo of orange hair.

“Hey there!” Haru waved at her.

Hachita waved back. She was the park ranger of Thornmoor Park, the unofficial warden of the woods by right of seizure like a tiger laying claim to territory. Nobody hassled her. Not even the companies. Unless they wanted to get chopped up like wood fire. Though that was not to say the title of park ranger was undeserved. Her extensive knowledge of the local area naturally made her the go-to expert. There was no creature she could not track, no plant she could not find. The terrain of the park was as familiar to her as the heft of the axe that she carried in her jacket. Occasionally, her and Hachita would team up for a job.

“S’up, Haru?” Hachita said.

“Oh you know, just on my way to deliver some of…”—she showed her the basket—“these!”

“The minty bark?”

Oh. Whoops.” She lifted up a piece of bark.

The park ranger gasped. “No way!”

“Yes way! That raggedy tarantula is as good as a pile of laundry.”

Hachita reached for one and Haru swatted her hand away.

“Ouch! Not even one?”

“Go pick it yourself. This is for my client.”

“Who would’ve thunk that a shrimp like you would be the one to claim the bounty,” she said, massaging her hand.

“Don’t call me shrimp!” Haru hated that name. Just because Hachita was older and taller didn’t mean that she could rub it in.

“Whatever. At least now that tarantula won’t hurt anybody ever again.”

“Or hog all the good-good.”

“Too bad it wasn’t me.” Hachita sighed.

Normally, Haticha would leave the creatures in Thornmoor Park be. They were wild animals after all. Neither good nor bad, just acting on a baser instinct. She would only interfere if a creature went out of the park and caused harm. But other than that she was rather laissez faire with the creatures. That was, until the raggedy tarantula committed something that even Hachita could not forgive: killing Artichoke, her velocimantis, a trusted companion. The raggedy tarantula had torn it apart before her eyes. She tried to kill it herself, however, it was too strong even for her. That was why the bounty was set up. And she had been mourning ever since.

“What are you up to?” Haru asked, changing the subject.

Hachita cleared her throat. “On the hunt for a trespasser.”

“Oh?”

“Stabby Mclaughtery. He’s been attacking anybody who strays from the path.”

Haru blew a raspberry. “Can’t be that tough of a guy if he has to hide in a bush.”

“Stay on the path, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Colourful within the lines. Stay away from the stabby man.”

“I’m serious, shrimp. I don’t want to find you dead in the forest…”

She playfully punched Hachita on the arm. “I’ll be fine, alright? If anything, we should be more worried about KD. He got paralyzed by the tarantula.”

“I’ll go check on him then.”

“Thanks, Hachita.”

“Just stay on the path.”

Except the premium fruits were spoiling faster than expected. The pulpy flesh started to look more copper than gold, the lustre fading exponentially along with the potential payday.

A squirrel skittered across the path with a caramel chestnut in its buck-toothed jaws, vanishing into the woods. The forest looked nice and safe. The mint chocolaty trees were decently spaced. A generous downpour of sunlight touched the candied floor, scrubbing away any shred of shadow to hide in. If anybody did try to attack her, she could easily run back to the path. Or drew her short sword. Or slingshot. And through the forest was the fastest way to get to the velocimantis ranch.

So Haru stepped off the path and into the forest.

The bark on the minty trees were pitted and cracked, sort of like old leather, and the scent of menthol was overwhelming, as strong as a blast of arctic wind. Her eyes watered as she walked through the woods. It felt like her nose was stuffed with snow. And every step was an arduous trudge as the sickly mix of sweet and dirt pulled on her boots. At least the velocimantis ranch was getting closer.

In the distance, past the thicket of minty trees, was a horizon of grassland contained in a perimeter of wooden fencing. A greedy grin bloomed across Haru’s face. She could imagine the big bag of bouillons now. Payday was just up ahead. A second wind pushed at her back. The whole body renewed. The profit motive was a powerful incentive to kick her butt into gear.

SHIING… SHIING… SHIING…

Haru stopped dead in her tracks. Stood still and listened attentively. And there it was again.

SHIING… SHIING… SHIING…

It sounded like the singing blades.

SHIING… SHIING… SHIING…

And that was when Haru realised who it was.

A man emerged from behind a tree, thin as a reed and shaggy like a dog. Tattered rags more than clothes clung to their body. A hatch-mark of scars puckered the skin on their forearms and cheeks. A turmoil of thoughts shone from his wide eyes like a pair of spotlights at night, telegraphing his intentions as he raised his hands. They glinted in the sun. For hands he had knives, the kind where the blade swooped up to a point and a serrated side, the kind used in combat. Froth bubbled out the corners of his mouth as Stabby Mclaughtery breathed like a rabid dog.

“I’M STABBY MCLAUGHTERY AND I’M HERE TO STAB YOU!”