"What the heck are you doing out here?" The young blond woman asked out loud, as she stomped from foot to foot, rubbing her arms. The snow beneath her feet compacted with a crunch crunch crunch as more fell on her head.

"Why, nothing Claire," she replied to herself. Even if she hadn't been alone, she wouldn't have been worried about people hearing her talking to herself. She'd lived in Forget-Me-Not Valley her entire life, as had her mother, and her mother's father, and her mother's father's father. The people here knew everything about her, and accepted her eccentricities as she accepted theirs. "I'm just standing outside in the middle of winter, in the middle of the night, waiting outside all alone so I can give expensive jewelry to a criminal. The usual, you know."

Claire shivered again, removing her hands from her warm armpits for just a moment to check her watch. It was digital, practically the only piece of modern(ish) technology in the entire valley, but the minutes numeral had blinked out years ago, and now Claire could only see the time in ten-minute increments. Her watch read 10:0-, as it had when she'd checked it what felt like fifteen minutes ago. As she looked at it, though, it changed to 10:1-.

Claire looked up as she stuffed her hand back into the warmth of her underarm, squinting to see farther through the peacefully falling snow to the wide, uphill road. There was little light, only that which came from inside Vesta's house, but it was magnified by the snow and visibility was high. She was more than able to watch for a certain figure coming down the road. Sure enough, there he came, walking at his usual brisk pace, right on time.

Exactly on time. Predictable to a T.

Claire sighed. She'd come to hate "predictable" in the four years since she'd been shackled with the task of saving the harvest sprites. She could barely remember what it had been like before that, when she had the freedom to do what she wanted. Had it been the same back then, that everyone had their daily and weekly routines, never varying from them unless she herself interrupted them? Claire had found that she herself had been falling into one, though it only lasted as long as it took her to water the plants and take care of her animals. But when she'd first met Skye three years ago robbing Romana's mansion, she thought she'd finally found something different. A rebel, an exotic. Someone who wouldn't just titter with amused acceptance every time she crushed a fence with her hammer or stuffed Red Grass down Mayor Thomas's throat. Someone who could thrill her, make her want to lock her doors at night. Someone spontaneous.

"Hey there, beautiful," said a husky voice. Skye walked a few feet from her down the road, at the point where it came out from between its sheltering cliffs. He was wearing an extravagant fur coat over his usual patterned shirt and tight pants. He raised his arm in what he thought was a cool wave as he drew closer to her.

"Hey there, sexy," she answered in kind, automatically turning her voice and personality to what she called Magical Girl Seductress Claire. She turned to walk with him as she attempted to subtly rifle through her rucksack. "Did you miss me, those long days? I sure missed you."

"Hehe," he chuckled in that signature sleazy laugh of his. He thought it was sexy. Muffy thought it was sexy. Claire had never thought it was sexy, but it didn't used to grate on her nerves as it did now. Worst was: he chuckled at almost everything. "Of course I missed you babe, but you know I can't come when it's snowing out. Now that I'm here, though, we can—"

"So why are you here now?"

"I had to show you this new coat, of course! Hehe. I got it on sale from Van. Five finger discount, if you know what I mean. Also, it wasn't snowing this morning, so I'd already set my schedule."

Of course, the schedule. He couldn't veer from it, even if it meant getting his new fur coat wet with snow. Claire remembered when she'd first met Skye and he'd seemed so different and exciting, but he was no different. He came into the valley at 10:00 PM, passed The Line at 10:13, and proceeded to follow his time-specific plans to perfection, same as everyone else.

"Well that's sweet," she replied, pretending to believe that he'd only come to show her the coat. Skye grinned with another stupid "Hehe" and put his arm over her shoulders. She automatically moved her arm around his waist, but this night felt even more uncomfortable than most nights. Claire gradually realized she didn't want to be touching him.

"Now that I am here," he said, continuing on with what he'd been about to say before Claire interrupted him, "do you want to come and wrestle at the lake with me? Hehe. And by "wrestle," I mean—"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You know I want to, baby, I really do, but Lillith gave birth this morning and I had a heck of a time trying to fight her calf for her milk, and I'm still sad from selling Hapsburg, but really it was her time to go. Plus, I spent a lot of stamina in the mine just an hour—"

"Yeah yeah," Skye exhaled. He wasn't interested in the exciting world of livestock drama. "I get it, you have a headache. But do you at least have the… um." He couldn't finish his sentence. Even Skye felt a little bit ashamed about extorting his girlfriend for jewelry and curry. Playing with her emotions, and all that.

"Of course I do, baby," Claire said, withdrawing the amethyst earrings from her bag. "I wouldn't just leave you with nothing." She wrapped his hand around them as she stood on tiptoes to give him a quick smooch on the cheek. She didn't see a smile flash onto his face and disappear just as quickly.

"It's snowing tomorrow, so I can't come—hehe, don't pout, you know I can't. But maybe we can play another night. Put on a show for the Harvest Goddess, hehe."

"Sure thing, baby," Claire said, and took a left to her ranch when he turned right to go to Goddess Pond. As she turned her back to him, Skye looked down at the earrings in his hand. It was worth 2000 Gold, at least. With one backward glance, the thief continued down the road. He'd gotten what he'd come for.

Claire ran, the faster to get to her heated house and soft bed. She didn't look back; she'd done what she came for.

It was a lie, the whole thing about the animals. Obviously. Skye could have figured that out easily. If he'd bothered to care. He's just out to use me as much as I use him. If he had just spoken with any of the gossip-mongers in the Valley, or checked in with Rick in Mineral Town, he would have known that Claire had sold all of her animals at the beginning of winter. The only lives still under her responsibility were the cat, the dog, and the horse. The only reason she hadn't sold them was because no one would buy.

Claire approached her house and slipped in quickly, so as to keep the dog in and the cold out. "Hi Rufus…" she cooed at the excited dog who barreled into her before the door was even shut. "Yes, you missed me, I missed you too… oh who's a shmoofer," she teased as she vigorously rubbed his head, ears, and neck, cooing in mommy-speak to him all the while. The dog whined happily, his tail wagging at mach speed while his eyes narrowed in ecstasy. "I know cutie, you missed me, I know."

Mewjesty, meanwhile, turned to glare at her inept handler. She did not miss her, no thank you. She was only going over to the woman to get some of the delightful scratches behind the ears; it was insufferable that that nincompoop of a dog get all the attention. Not that she needed it, of course.

After the animals were satisfied, (read: after Claire's back hurt too much to continue petting), Claire straightened up with a groan, throwing her scarf and coat haphazardly on the table. The first thing her mother had pounded into her when she'd been a tot had been cleanliness and organization: You can't run a farm if you can't find your seeds or hoe, and you won't organize your supplies if you don't organize your home. Well, I suppose you can run it, you'd just do so very inefficiently and badly. It had taken six years of Life After Mom to knock the darn habit out of her.

Yep, cleanliness was important to a farmer. Claire knew that she'd never had the mindset of a good one.

Claire flopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn't bother to change into pajamas, or even lift her leg fully onto the bed. She just stared at the ceiling, her eyes not wandering the plaster, but seeing other things far away. She saw herself miles and years from Forget-Me-Not Valley, farther than Mineral Town— a place that had never even heard of her Podunk little village, the valley that drew down her spirit like a ball-and-chain in quicksand. Claire closed her eyes and slept; and when she dreamed, she remembered.

Claire had not always been tied to Forget-Me-Not Valley. She'd been and born raised there, but when her father had still been with the family, he would occasionally take her traveling. Her father, Goddess, I don't even remember my own father's name, had not been a native of Forget-Me-Not Valley, and as a traveler had not been as averse as everyone else to seeing the world a bit. He wasn't like Gustafa, who claimed himself a traveler but never left the valley. He had wandered, he had seen the world.

"I don't want her leaving this valley, Colin," her mother had snarled, taking her rage out on the tomatoes she chopped. "Valley folk were not meant to be anywhere but the Valley. Trust me, if she leaves, bad things will happen."

"Like what, Jill?" her father had replied with a weary sigh; he never got angry like his wife did, the most extreme he got was exasperated. Claire had been six years old at the time, and she remembered staring at the back of her father's blond head and feeling so much love for both her parents she thought her little body would burst. It upset her that they were fighting; she didn't care about leaving, she loved her home. She just wanted Mommy and Daddy to be happy again and tell her how beautiful her drawing was. "Like the farm will fail? Like the barns will rot? Those things can be fixed. Your father raised this farm up from nothing, and so did you. Claire can do it too."

"No, Colin!" Jill shouted, startling her family. She slid the chopped tomatoes into a salad bowl and started on the meat, looking like she was about to cry. "I mean like really bad things. People losing their homes and savings, people dying… People going insane. Claire going insane."

Colin was silent for a moment, contemplative as he rested his face on his tented hands. The only sounds were those of Jill spicing the meat and sliding the pan into the oven. Eventually, Colin gathered his thoughts (or his courage) and asked: "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's always been that way, when anyone has tried to leave. Best case scenario: they come home a wreck, with only half the wit they had when they left. There's some sort of gee—" Jill looked up, as if suddenly remembering who was in the room. Claire looked up from her crayons at the abrupt silence. "We'll talk about this later. Claire, sweetie, can I see your pretty drawing?"

Colin. That was his name. Claire got up with a creak and a groan, looking for her watch. She'd fallen asleep in her clothes and boots on, no surprise there, but for some reason her watch was not on her wrist. No matter. She knew what time it was; there hadn't been a single day in four years, since that fateful morning she awoke to see the Witch Princess staring down at her, that she hadn't woken up at either six or eight o'clock.

"Good morning Rufus, Mewjesty," she deadpanned with a noble nod at her animals. "And good morning, Claire. Good morning yourself, Claire." Rufus ran around in happy circles, excited to be a awake and a dog and about to be fed; Mewjesty just mewed from her position near her food bowl. Stop talking to yourself and feed me, you moron.

"Yes, yes, your Mewjesty, I'm coming," Claire sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting herself out of its springy goodness. She carefully measured out an allotment of food for each pet and poured it into its respective bowl. She was fine with being sloppy with her own stuff, but not with a life under her responsibility. Rufus eagerly jumped on it, eating half the contents of the bowl before suddenly stopping and scratching at the door. Mewjesty stared at her food bowl and began to daintily nibble the choicest pieces of kibble.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Claire groused at her dog, and opened the door so he could zoom out. Mewjesty walked out at a more dignified pace. Claire followed them, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it to stare at the sky.

I need to feed Naysayer, she thought as she stared up at the winter sky, still dark in the early morning. Claire sighed, and didn't move. I've gotta feed Naysayer, clear the stones and logs from the paddock area, buy seeds from Vesta since Karen's store is closed on Tuesdays… Claire tensed up, and her legs began tingling with the need to run. No more taking care of anything but herself, no more living her life according to some twisted Goddess's schedule, she needed to run. She needed to get out of the valley. Isn't that why she'd sold all her livestock, so she wouldn't be so tied down? Yes, she'd go for a run, maybe try The Line again; forget about crops and farming and preparing to be tied down in organic chains for another year.

A loud whinny broke through Claire's thoughts, snapping her out of her funk. Naysayer, right. As she pitched hay into his hayrack, a glimmer on the floor caught her eye. What the…?

"Naysayer!" she gasped as she picked it up. "How in the world did you get my watch?" Naysayer snorted at her, staring up at her entirely unabashedly. She had no doubt that if he'd been able, Naysayer would have snuck into her house just to cause trouble…but no. Even if the horse suddenly developed hands and tiptoeing feet, this wasn't her watch. It had an unobtrusive but shiny gold filament winding around the leather band, and it had a minutes display. The time read 5:45 AM.