Morning sunlight squeezed its way through the leaves. Underwood smelled of dew and berries. A pig pushed its way through the underbrush, searching for the freshest morsel to eat.
Behind a tree, Abbigail drew an arrow from her quiver. There was her breakfast, feeding itself wild carrots. She drew her bow back and aimed. This swine will make fine roast porkchops. Suddenly, a dog bark shot through the air. The pig stopped feeding and disappeared into the bushes.
Abbigail let the bow relax and rolled her eyes. What is Sam up to now? He should know better to make a sound when they are hunting. She put the bow on her back and went to her dog.
"What is it, Sam?" Abbigail's short hair bounced as she jogged to her dog. She rubbed him affectionately on his head. "I hope it's better than tomorrow's breakfast, because you just…" She stopped in her tracks. Her brown eyes saw a strange scene. In the patch before them, the grass was replaced by a pale-yellow rock. Purple particles lazed through the air and in the middle, was a giant purplish black stone.
"What is this thing?" she pondered out loud. Sam gave an inquiring woof, as if he's thinking about the same question.
Abbigail stepped gingerly onto the yellow rock and approached the black object. Sam growled. He did not like this, thing, at all.
"Sam, shush!" If the dog goes on any longer, pigs an acre around wouldn't venture this close to the farm in days.
Abbigail placed her hand on the black stone. For a moment, it glowed purple, just like the surrounding particles. Then, it was dormant once again.
"See? Nothing happened." Abbigail picked up the stone with both hands. "Come on. Let's take it back with us."
When the two returned home, the sun was just climbing its way onto the treetops. It spread its radiance on a small farm. Abbigail had known nowhere else since her parents left her there, all those years ago, with…
"Abbigail?! Were you out hunting again?!" A man, white hair flowing in the morning air, white eyebrows furrowed, and small white mustache bristling, walked out from the house. His brown overalls were patched but clean, and he moved with a vigor not in accordance with his age. His voice was hoarse, but powerful nonetheless. His exasperation permeated the light morning air.
Abbigail quickly hid her new-found wonder behind a log. "Mr. Finch!" She hastily replied, smiling as if she just returned from a jubilant morning hunt. "Sam and I went out early to catch something for dinner."
"Did you at least harvest the sugar cane before you left?" There it is. Mr. Finch only ever cares about his crops. "Yeah, I got it…" Abbigail turned towards the sugar cane patch. There they were, still standing tall, growing under the brilliant sun.
"I'm sorry Mr. Finch." Abbigail sighed. Why did she always forget? "I was going to get it this morning."
Mr. Finch walked closer. Does he have to take care of everything by himself? "Alright, so did you catch anything?"
"Well," Abbigail started, she had come back with something, but that wasn't pork, and she would prefer Mr. Finch didn't know about the stone. "We would have got a pig if it weren't for someone..." She looked meaningfully down at Sam, who focused on scratching his pelt.
"Well, I imagine you both are hungry." Mr. Finch pointed at his porch. "See that pack over there? It's full of fresh meat, fruit, bread, and all other sorts of food." Sam perked up and silently slipped away. "Bought it all in Oakendale during my last trip," Mr. Finch continued. "Didn't need to hunt for it. On top of that, we've got a whole season of crops of our own ready for harvest." He placed his hands on the fence. "We're just farmers Abbigail, just like your parents were."
Sam was now dragging the pack away behind Mr. Finch. Abbigail tried her best not to deviate her eyes away to reveal it. "Now you go get that sugar cane before it gets dark." Mr. Finch ordered. "I'll be enjoying a nice dinner in the meantime." His face brimmed with satisfaction. "Wait till he couldn't find his pack of foods." Abbigail thought as she begrudgingly picked up her hoe and headed towards the sugar cane. Another boring day on the farm.
"And what's this you were rolling up to the house?" Abbigail stopped. Mr. Finch had discovered the stone! She whirled around to see the old man stoop down to inspect it.
"Oh, that? Nothing much." Abbigail tried to sound as if she found a pebble in the woods. "It was just a big," she struggled to find the right words for it, "purple stone."
"Nothing much?" Mr. Finch repeated. "This is a Dragon Stone, Abbigail." He picked up the purple object.
Sam rushed to defend it. He had pushed that stone back and this old man wasn't taking it away. He snapped at Mr. Finch's heels, who staggered. "Hey you keep that animal away from me!" He yelled as he tried to keep his balance with the giant stone in hand.
"Sam! Cut it out!" Abbigail ordered.
Giving a defensive growl, Sam backed away. Mr. Finch lugged the dragon stone back to his room. "Things like this are beyond you, Abbigail." But apparently, it wasn't beyond him.
Abbigail cut the sugar cane down and put them in the chest. She lumbered back to her room and hanged her bow on the wall. Her stomach growled angrily. She lied on her bed and gave a long sigh. She yearned for a life outside this small farm, outside these woods, and away from that darn sugar cane she always had to harvest.
Sam jumped on the bed. Abbigail raised her head and patted her puppy. At least she had Sam with her. Sam, however, nodded at the door, where Mr. Finch's pack lay open. Abbigail smiled. She gave Sam a sausage and settled down to munch the bread. But inside, she felt bad about cheating the man.