Chapter Text
Malon sighed, wiping her brow as she stepped back to admire her work. The main house hadn’t been the worst, but certainly not the best, and after purchasing the land, she was not about to waste money on things she could fix herself.
So, she had gotten out here early and set about painting, dragging out the old furniture. It was something she had practice with, often fixing things around the house and fields back on her father’s ranch. She had planned for this to be at least a four-person job, having sent out papers and ads to try and find some helpers, but no one replied.
The warnings of the other farmers rang in her head.
“Those are the Lost Woods, Miss. You’d best find another spot to settle, Goddess above knows what lurks in there.” A particularly haunted lady had murmured, a faraway look in her eye. A young man had balked at her when she stopped by, introducing herself and informing him she was setting up in the range just through the trees.
“Are you insane? It’s your funeral, lass. Called the Lost Woods for a reason, ain’t it?” He had grunted, and she had just rolled her eyes. The land was land, even if the woods around her were a tad bit spooky.
She didn’t really understand what they were trying to get at; she got through the woods just fine, nothing but birds and bugs flitting through the trees and the occasional squirrel. The lake that ran along the property and dipped deeper into the woods, coated with a strange fog, supplied a perfect place for fish, and fishing, as well as steady water supplies.
Sure, Malon never ventured too deep, but mostly because that was where nature ruled. She would keep to herself, keep to her barn and her animals, and leave the wilder creatures to their own devices. At most, she anticipated running into a bear, or a deer, or something.
Nothing fantastical lived on her ranch, that she was sure of.
Finally, someone responded to her desperate requests for assistance. Malon nearly dropped her phone when she saw it, pausing in her shopping to instantly scan the reply. The picture showed a young, smiling woman with red hair and freckles, standing on some sort of beach. The text explained her experience settled mostly with crops and flowers but was open to learning to care for animals.
She was happy to wait for pay until the lodgings were complete, so long as she got a place to stay. Malon was more than happy to accept, knowing a pair of hands was certainly worth making room for her.
Under her reply, there was one more. A lovely girl named Ilia, reporting experience with horses, goats, cows, and chickens. She also was content with waiting for pay, but mentioned she would be keeping her part time job during that time.
Sending swift replies of excitement and welcome to them, Malon tucked her phone away, returning to the shopping at hand. She really needed more furniture if she was going to be housing two new ranch hands.
Ilia and Marin were due to arrive in a week, so Malon really wanted to crack down on her progress with the house. It was far better now, all of the old and rotted wooden furniture removed and replaced with something newer and more stable.
She had started a small garden, just outside of the house, and was carefully restoring the dilapidated wooden fences that connected to the barn. Her father planned to send her favorite horse, Epona, as well as a cow to get her ranch started.
It was sweet, and Malon wasn’t about to turn away the generosity. So, along with her new human companions, they deserved only the best of housing.
Ilia arrived perfectly on time, smiling shyly when she spotted Malon holding up a sign delicately painted with, ‘Welcome Ilia and Marin!’ on its front. There was an even more elated squeal, as the ray of sunshine that was Marin bolted forward, instantly leaning in to hug the older woman.
Malon laughed, spinning her around and extending a hand to Ilia, who smiled and held tight to her bags. Malon had already forgotten why she was worried, bringing the pair to her car and driving the winding path back to the farm, oblivious to the curious glowing eyes watching them go.