|Tom's farm|23.03.1178|
Naomi:
"Naomi!"
I hear a loud shout from downstairs, stinging like a sharp knife into my sensitive ears and causing me to groan.
"Ugh, what is it, Geezer?"
I stand up from my desk, leaving the book I'm currently reading, called Seal Magic for Starters, on it. Mischa bought and sent it to me, as he lives in the capital.
Tom, the geezer whose only job seems to be disturbing my study, doesn't answer the question I just shouted downstairs with the exact same volume he did. That either means he really needs my help, or he intentionally doesn't answer to make me come downstairs.
And it works.
I walk down the wooden stairs, trying my best not to look at the ugly paintings Tom drew in his 'creative era.' He somehow is so proud of them that he hangs them on almost every wall in the house.
As I jump down the last stairs, a habit I've developed over the years, I walk toward the kitchen, Tom's favorite place to be.
"Where are you?"
I ask, not really expecting an answer. He always tends to make me walk through the whole house to finally find him. And when I find him, he always gives me this dumb, almost mocking smile and says things like, "Oh, there you are, what took you so long?" which makes my blood boil.
After about 30 seconds of searching through the whole house, I walk outside. As I leave the house, my bare feet touch the hard but now humid ground. It seems like it has been raining for quite a while. I just haven't noticed while studying. After leaving the house, I finally spot him. Tom is a human, about 171 cm, 67 years old, and has a weird obsession with suspenders and old Malistian clothing. His greyish, curly hair is slightly greasy from working in the sun all day.
Tom stands on the meadow, leaning on the fence while looking at something with a mesmerized stare. The sun is about to set already, bathing the valley beneath us in red and orange light.
"There you are," I say while walking toward him. My feet now touch the soft but wet grass.
It takes him about two seconds to react to my voice. Tom turns his face to me with a smile, but not with a toothy smile. This time, it's a more 'mature' smile, if you'd call it that. Something I rarely see coming from him. "Look how peaceful they look," he says, his normally hoarse voice sounding a lot softer now.
I grab a hat that hangs next to the doorframe and put it on to prevent the cows from freaking out at the mere sight of my wolf ears. I also make sure to hide my tail under my green nightgown, which I still have on because I was too lazy to change. "And what's so special about it?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, still not knowing why he called me outside.
Tom chuckles softly and smiles wider. "Shhh, just watch them." I sigh, but do as he says, leaning on the fence as well and watching the cows graze. "And you disturbed my studying for that?" I ask, already a little annoyed by his antics again.
"I disturbed your studying, huh? Why so ambitious all of a sudden?" he says with a smirk.
"I'm not," I answer swiftly, now speaking in a much softer tone for whatever reason. "It's just… If I manage to become a student in one of the academies in the Malistia Kingdom and maybe become a state magician, I could finally earn enough money to live in the capital."
Tom chuckles. "I see. Want to get to the capital, huh? And I thought you wanted this book for hunting purposes."
I smirk a little. "Oh yeah, I totally need a sealing book for hunting."
Even though I try my best to stay in this sarcastic state, I can't help but let a chuckle escape my lips.
Tom simply shrugs. "What do I know? I can't even remember the last time I used magic. But sealing magic sounds like something you could use to catch the animals and transport them, doesn't it?"
I stop chuckling. That actually was kind of smart—impressive for a man who once tried to cook a shoe because it looked like karabol meat to him.
"Thinking outside the box, huh? And I thought 'Old Man's Disease' had completely rotted your brain by now."
I chuckle before turning around and walking away, back into the house. Tom remains at the fence, just like a statue.
While walking up the stairs to my room, I notice that Tom's words seemed to have triggered me. I'm now thinking about something I've already thought about way too long and too many times to call it just a theoretical plan.
You know, living on a little farm in the mountains, separated from the village since Tom got into a fight with the people there, isn't as bad as you might think. The work is easily done, since we don't have that many farm animals but only cows or karabols. Also, thanks to Mischa, Tom's son who works as a state magician in the capital of Malistia, our cornfields and marburake tree plantations are growing well.
I don't exactly remember what he did, but he said something about laying a spell on the area around the fields to accelerate the growing process and another one to prevent harsher weather conditions like storms or wildfires from damaging the plants. In general, my life could be way worse.
I just don't think that this is my destination—not what I'm meant to be.
Magic and stuff are way more interesting to me than taking care of karabols. The fact that Tom doesn't try to make me stay but also doesn't try to make me leave directly motivates me even more, even though I hate to admit that this guy has so much effect on me even if he does nothing. Damn Geezer!
As I enter my bedroom again, I remove the hat, which I forgot to take off before entering the house, and toss it on my bed. Then my gaze flickers to the several dumbbellson the floor. i use them for my morning workout but forgot to put them back in the drawer between my wardrobe and mirror.
While I do so, I can't help but glance at the mirror, looking at me. I know that many girls my age have this obsession with being pretty, but when I look in the mirror, I just ask myself one thing.
"Can demi-humans get fleas?"
I try my best to ignore that I just said such a thing out loud.
>> But seriously, do demi-humans have those problems with their fur? <<
>> Do they have shops in which they sell special fur soap or something?<<
I think to myself while picking the hat up again, tossing it in one of the edges in my room, and tossing myself on the bed instead.
The cozy, soft blanket and the even softer pillow seem to have a magical effect on me. As soon as I wrap myself in the soft fabric, I seem to lose my track of thoughts. A sweet, honey-like scent is in the air. Maybe Tom is cooking something. My eyes get heavier and heavier.