Journey's End - Chapter 3

You grunt as you heave yourself up from a squat, lifting a carrying pole with a bucket of milk sloshing around on each end. These were your fifth and sixth pails, almost full just like the previous four, yet somehow, they seemed to get heavier with each couple. How had Malon ever managed to work like that on her own? The pole presses into the back of your neck in a most uncomfortable manner as you steadily make for the coolhouse at the back of the ranch. 

“Thank you so much for wanting to help,” Malon had clapped her hands with glee as you had offered your assistance earlier that morning, “You’re right - if we can finish the work in half the time, then we can go to the festival sooner! Now, let’s see… what could you do...?”

Oddly enough, what you could do for her and what you physically could do were two very different things indeed. Once the horses had eaten their feeding sacks empty, you had to take them outside and clean out their stables while Malon got the cows’ breakfast straw ready. Taking them out was easier said than done. One of them, Grasshopper, was determined to make you understand that he would not cooperate with a stranger. As soon as you had led him out of the barn, he began to trot and pull you staggeringly along behind him. As you had begun to remove his reigns and bit, he had swayed his head in a mocking manner, and had even bucked as he got impatient. Thank the goddesses that Malon had not witnessed how that stallion had made such a fool of you. Then, of course, was the matter of the stables. Dealing with Epona’s morning business was one thing, but cleaning out for seven other horses required a lot of self-discipline. It was just as well that the ranch girl had denied you breakfast.

“The animals come first! We eat when they have eaten!” she had stoutly stated, hands on her hips and bottom lip almost pouting.

Perhaps she chose this motto because cleaning out seven stables was so challenging. One of the older horses was especially very occupied in the night. You could have sworn you saw a glint of amusement in Epona’s eyes as you held your breath and shovelled away.

Your next task was to gather cuccoo eggs as Malon milked the cows, which was a simple enough task. There was no rooster on the ranch, so all you had to do was collect all the eggs that you could find. Then of course, once the cows had been milked, you were to help transfer it all to the coolhouse. This task was simple, but also the most physically taxing. 

You finally reach the building to store the milk in and kick the door open. It feels so relieving to finally kneel and release the weight from your shoulders. You prop the pole up against the wall and make your way back, feeling unusually light on your feet. The sun is almost up but the air is still fresh and the scent of night still lingers. You can only barely see your breath, the grass damp under your boots. As you open the barn door, a flutter of white feathers greets you.

“Girls, girls!” Malon has the final pail of milk in her arms, almost losing her balance as the cuccoos flock around her, clucking happily. You pick one of them up and she settles down in your arms immediately, and the rest waddle away upon noticing your presence.

“Thanks,” the young lady giggles, a splash of milk running down her face, “I just wanted to bring the last one, but the girls here are wanting to play. Are you hungry? I’ll be making breakfast after this.”
 

You nod and grin at her. She looks rather adorable with her hair tied back. The way she wears it with the bandana reminds you of something from your childhood. Maybe that was the key to her fast-paced morning schedule. The two of you chat about the ranch and the festival as you carry the pail together and eventually make for the farmhouse. It is difficult not to notice her cleavage as it peeps out of her blouse, bouncing playfully with each step. You can feel the excitement radiating from her as she chirps on about all the food to try there and the sights to see.

Breakfast, you realise, is something that is actually very important to Malon. She works hard and eats even harder. You watch in awe as she slices up a ridiculous number mushrooms and onions, rolls a quick dough together then separates it into little buns and shoves them into the oven, cracks and pours eggs into the frying pan with one hand. Then, in a moment of clarity, she looks at you.

“Oh darn, I forgot – I should cook for two people.”

The smell of the baking bread wafts over to the table, stirring up your appetite. The spread that Malon puts before you is impressive. To go with it is homemade butter and some milk from this morning, which is thick and almost foamy at the surface. You take a bite of one of the buns, which is still hot, and then a long sip of milk - the contrast in temperature in your mouth only adds to the harmony of flavours. As you cram a spoonful of fried mushrooms into your milk-moustached mouth, you realise that Malon is observing you, her head resting on her hand and a small smile gracing her lips. You wipe your face with your napkin, suddenly self-conscious. 

“Is it good?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow, “When you’re done, come with me upstairs. I want to show you something.”

*****

Art by R3dFiVe

Story by Redeemer and R3dFiVe

Writing by Redeemer