Alpaca Special Delivery Service!
A/N: Happy holidays everyone! I'm back again with another challenge of sorts. I recently signed up for the Starry Night secret santa on Tumblr, and, given that it is now up on there, I thought I'd also share it with you. Admittedly, I took a few liberties with options given to me, crafting a story about Alpacas in HM64's Flowerbud village with Ann and Gray, but hopefully it'll still be enjoyable. Without further ado, happy readings~
The latest animal shipment had come in the night before, and Ann was beyond excited. She'd watched Gray corral them in at around midnight, ushering them in from the elements whilst she remained tucked securely in her bedroom. She hadn't been able to sleep afterward, she was so excited. It was as if Starry Night had come a week early, even if the current cold-snap meant they were restricted to the barn and unable to be ridden around.
Ann had spent the last week reading up on Alpaca care, annoying Maria to high heaven with her constant rambling, and questions that the other girl couldn't hope to know the answers to. Ann highly doubted Maria cared about the proper way to process Alpaca wool, let alone which countries favored that kind of industry. In school, Ann always preferred working in groups, so studying while on the job was no different. She was a talker, and a vent-er, so she needed the outlet. Some people didn't seem to like the "company" though. But locking the library, with all her books unceremoniously left on the curb alongside a symbolic dog muzzle – while Maria' silhouette was obviously the one behind the window looking outside – was just plain rude.
Maria's scrunched-up, annoyed face aside, Ann was more than ready to tackle this. She was sure she had been literally born ready. Assuming her father had always intended to make alpacas and llamas a stable part of his business scheme. If not, then maybe not literally.
Once Gray was inside, his bedroom door locked behind him, Ann was outside like Cliff when free food was involved. Her winter jacket was barely around her shoulders as she sauntered up to the barn doors, slipping through as strong winds blew through the snow-dusted pathways of Flowerbud village. The familiar smell hit her a second later. Barn smells were typically overpowering, but the farmgirl didn't even blink at the assortment, mixed up as it was with the new additions. The new group were being kept in a separate area, blocked off by a fence which Ann hopped over with ease. She moved forward silently, too afraid to startle them, marveling at their proximity.
It was all that the cutest pictures promised it would be. Row on row of elongated necks, soft fur, and sleepy faces, all lazily munching on the hay the ranch provided. And they were hers. They were so going to make the best cuddle buddies in the history of farm animal cuddlers.
Well, only if they decided not to spit on her face.
However, those were the dangers of leaning into a creature's personal space to stare gleefully at their muzzled faces.
But, she was no stranger to this kind of thing, so, maniacal grin still intact, she wiped herself off and went to grab a brush. She was going to befriend the heck out of these things. Then, safety be damned, she would ride off into the sunset to start her very own adventure.
"And what do you think you're doing?" called out a gruff voice loudly, catching the attention of all the animals nearby. The alpaca closest to Ann skittered off to the edge of the pen, joining its brethren in fright. The farmer was about to attempt to calm them when a hand fell down on her shoulder. She let out a high pitched yelp. Busted. "Ann, you should be in bed."
She giggled nervously, peeking over her shoulder to confirm who it was. No bushy 'stache, so, Gray. Great.
"Heeeyy, uh, bro," Ann squeaked out, with a too-bright smile in place. She lifted his hand from her shoulder, stepping away from the reproachful appendage. The less she came off like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie-jar, the better-off she was. But, looking up at his serious face again, the girl figured she had no such luck. "I couldn't sleep. You know, the insomnia, sheep induced zombie nightmares and all of that. So, I thought I'd come work in the barn. Do the, you know, cleaning and stuff."
"You, work." Gray said disbelievingly, quirking an eyebrow and crossing his arms while a frown steadily spread across his face. Ann winced, knowing the look, when she saw it. She was not looking forward to the day that Gray grew a moustache of his very own; with all the frown-lines that he was midway through developing, his moustache was probably going to naturally droop, and then she'd never be able to keep a straight face during these 'talks.' She could see it now, the future of the 'infinite look' - Gray would permanently have a stick up his bum and she'd never be free to do anything ever again. "Didn't exactly look like that to me."
Gray hadn't always been this dull, party pooper. Ann missed the days when he wouldn't mind being involved in her crazy adventures against imaginary trolls, and actually joined her in riding cows around the farm. Adulthood had just made Gray…boring. Not to mention a bit too self-righteous and confining. Maybe if Mom was still around, he'd have been less of a worry-wart.
"'Cause I was getting to it, dum dum. Jeez." For a woman of twenty, Ann didn't always act her age. At least, that's what her father and the village busy-bodies told her. Her current eye roll and melodramatic sighing, which she was often wont to do, probably didn't help with that.
Her brother didn't look terribly impressed by her response, providing his own disbelieving 'uh huh' before letting silence descend. Small, nimble fingers played with the brush in their hands, their owner uncomfortable in the barn's heat and unable to maintain their standoffish behavior. She glanced nervously at the creatures behind her, still cuddled together out of fear of the loud, unfamiliar voices speaking in front of them. Arguing definitely wouldn't help that situation.
"Yeah, okay," Ann finally got out weakly, going to put the brush back on its wall mount. Looks like Llama-Alpaca funtime would have to wait for another day. "So, I got a little excited about the new arrivals. I'm only human, Gray." She could have sworn she heard a smugly satisfied grunt from behind her, before the heavy trod of her brother's boots was followed by a hurried "come along then."
Ann was over the fence a second latter, jogging to keep up.
"So, why'd you come back in here anyway?"
His blue-capped head nodded toward a giant box near the barn doors, his following response curt. "Sam delivered this."
"At midnight?" Ann asked, it being her turn to sound sceptical. Sammy was sketchy, but midnight, really?
Gray shrugged. "Yup."
Ann couldn't help but mirror her brother's body language. "Okaaay then. Weird, but whatever."
The ranchers barely registered the words on the side of the box as they exited the barn. In the corner of one side, scribbled in barely legible cursive, were the words Starry Night.
###
A week had passed and Ann had made significant progress with her new furry friends. Dynamo – her beige, hyperactive idiot – was comfortable enough that he didn't mind a good scratch behind the ears. Cupcake was all kinds of affectionate, always happy to trot her inappropriately named black furred body over for cuddling, but she wasn't happy when you messed with her fur. Ann knew that, if she was going to have any chance with riding one of them before they shipped out in three days, it was going to be with Prancer. He was a little bit cocky, continuously strutting his white fluffy stuff up and down the barnyard, but he was the only one who didn't freak out when Ann put the saddle on his back.
It was the evening before Starry Night, and, according to the ranching girl's calculations, everything was going according to plan. Gray and Hall were out for the evening, off to the Bakery to get last minute goods for the next day. They'd left the youngest member of the ranching family to clean up after them, expecting her to start on the household chores as soon as she was done. Except, well, with an overbearing family like hers, Ann couldn't help but bend the rules a little.
She set everything up now – her father and her brother would be up early tomorrow, so they wouldn't stay up after dinner – so after 9 she could make her escape. Always a bit of the adventurous type, she had packed a small meal for a trip into the mountains, where her and her furry companion could prance, puns notwithstanding, until the wee hours of the morning.
Prancer stood before her, head thrown back and acting as ridiculously majestic as expected. A small pack was assembled behind him, like an alpaca-llama version of a celebrity entourage. Ann scoffed at the thought, though she took extra care in smoothing down his coat as she adjusted the saddle and reins. No need to ruin his image, after all.
Moving around to double-check the bridle, the big box by the door once again caught her eye. Her father had barely heard the name Sammy before he refused to even look at the thing, banning the both of them from even touching it. He thought it all smelled too con-y, and insisted that he'd return the package to the salesman first thing. Well, as soon as Sam returned to town. In the meantime, the mystery behind the box was driving Ann insane. Having something so tantalizing close and yet just out of reach was driving her up the wall, and she just needed to know what was inside.
Granted, she was alone now. So, opening the box now probably wouldn't be too problematic, right? No one would have to know…
Ann's eyes flitted between the box and the bridle before her. She mumbled to herself: would not let her willpower succumb, she would not. But, in the end, her curiosity won out.
Skipping over to the mystery item, she snatched up a pair of sheers in her excitement. A week of uncertainty and temptation would finally be satisfied. Within seconds the waist-high box was open, lid hastily cut, and Ann's head poked over the edge. All she saw was red. A very sparkly, very papery red.
"Presents?" Ann asked. Never having quite gotten over the joy of Starry Night, her tone maintained that undercurrent of childish wonder. Still, if her father and brother had taught her anything, it was that a strong dose of scepticism was part of a healthy, balanced lifestyle. A card was taped to the inside of the box, devoid of any indicative cursive, and Ann did not hesitate to dive for it.
The brief letter read: Salutations dearest Ranching Family and sincerest tidings for this wonderful Holiday Season. This memorandum is an appellation to your kinder natures, as, without them, I would be otherwise put upon. My business has taken me away this season to far more treacherous lands where individuals are in dire need of a more ostentatious cheer, and, thus, I am unable to provide any of my usual 'accoutrements' for the people of my beloved Flowerbud. As such, I implore, I beg, that you might do me the kindness of delivering these parcels to your rural compatriots. I would prefer they receive them by the morning of Starry Night at the latest, if the inconvenience is not too great. Thank you greatly for your aid in this matter, sincerely, Sammy.
The girl squinted at the paper in her hands. Well, that was needlessly flowery. Slowly reading it over again to process Sammy's 'request,' Ann let the pieces stew together in her mind. When she finally realized what she needed to do, any potentially remaining scepticism flew out the window.
"He needs us to be Santa Claus," she sent a hurried glance back at Prancer, still saddled and ready for a night out. "And I know exactly how I can pull that off."
###
Several hours had passed since the opening, and Ann had made some minor adjustments to her original plan. Having procured a saddle bag from the depths of the barn's storage, she had moved a number of the gifts to the alpaca's back without causing any discomfort. Now, with the sun having long set, dinner eaten, and the barn's lights low to accommodate the sleeping animals, and with all the gifts set out for Ann's return trips, she was ready to delve into the snowy night.
She just had to wait for Gray to fall asleep.
For the umpteenth time, she looked through the small window that saw out into the yard, watching her brother check the different fence posts. He was such a worry-wart; as if not checking the fence for "crucial structural weaknesses" for one day was the end of the world. She had been stuck amongst the snuffling, sleepy beasts for forty minutes now, waiting for her moment to strike. Even Prancer was starting to get impatient.
Hearing the town church bell ring out the twenty-second hour, she sighed with relief as she saw her brother finally heading back inside. If he knew that she was going to be riding an alpaca – they'd buck you off in a second, Ann – around town, delivering Sam's goods no less, he'd pull a fit. Which is what prompted her little victory jig when she opened the barn door, which protested loudly against the snow blocking its path, without garnering the slightest attention from the house.
As quietly as possible, she led her furry companion through the thin layer of snow to the ranch's entrance, briefly pausing under the sign to adjust the pack and slip the woolly Santa-hat onto her head.
Except, apparently, pausing wasn't such a great idea. She should have probably waited more than five minutes between Gray going in and her leaving the farm.
The hand descended on her head this time, turning it around to look into the steely-blue, unimpressed eyes of her older brother.
"Ann-"
"This isn't what it looks like!" A pause, then she backtracked. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like, but I can explain!"
"They're not meant for riding," his voice brokered no argument. "You know what happened with me and Cliffguard, and that was with a horse I personally trained. What do you think'll happen to you with one of these…things?"
"Prancer would never throw me!"
"They're animals, not your friends. Do you want to end up like me?" He limped forward, moving into her personal space. The cold must have been bothering his leg again, Ann realized. The old jockey injury always flared up around this time of year.
Ann grumbled. "He wouldn't…"
Gray took off his cap, running a hand through his neatly trimmed red hair in frustration. "I just…don't want you to get hurt, okay? You're my baby sister. You know the drill with siblings; I don't need to tell ya about my needing to protect you and stuff."
"Can't you just, I don't know, let me live a little? I just want to have fun every once and awhile." She looked at him pleadingly, hoping that maybe a different tactic might work. "Especially 'cause I have something super important to do."
"Like what, exactly?"
"Well, I have to deliver Starry Night presents."
And, just like last week, Ann had left her brother flabbergasted. "Presents, you?"
"Well, not me, me. Does it look like I make enough in this place to give things to people?" She joked, motioning to her patch-covered overalls and tattered jacket. Offering him a toothy grin got her one in return. "They're Sam's. You know that big package you brought in?"
"The one Dad told us not to open?" Gray said pointedly.
"Yeah, that one!" She replied excitedly. "Well, there were a heckload of gifts inside and Sam said he wanted them delivered to the people because he couldn't do it himself. So, I thought I'd help 'im out."
"That's-"
"Weirdly nice of him, I know. He never gives away free stuff. But we hafta give him the benefit of the doubt, right? It's what Mom always told us to do."
Gray's face seemed to darken for a moment, his shoulder's tensing. Maybe telling him to lay off and talking about Mom were too much for one night. Ann knew her brother loved her, and that's why he was so protective, but they both had their limits. The girl observed how her brother's demeanor changed slowly as he looked her. What was he thinking? The look kind of reminded her of Dad's – he'd get this faraway look sometimes, before tearily mentioning how, despite looking so much like her mother, she was more of a klutzy, tomboyish mess, and he loved her for it.
To Ann's shock, Gray chuckled, moving to mess with her Santa hat. "Pulling the Mom card? That's a low blow."
Ann punched his shoulder. "Well, you don't really give me any other options," She turned to give Prancer a look, who was moving around as he started to get antsy in the snow. These animals were not meant for this kind of weather.
"Think you got room for one more?" Ann's jaw dropped. Stick-up-his-bum Gray was going to let her go and go with her? Maybe the movies were right, Starry Night miracles did happen after all.
"Duh, of course I do, dum dum," Ann rolled her eyes at her older brother. Going to check the saddle however made her have second thoughts. "Er…well, actually-"
Her brother patted her back softly, offering her a gentle smile. "Let me get the cart, it doesn't look like you have everything in those bags anyway." Gray jogged off in the direction she had come, leaving her to calm the creature that would probably hate her by the end of the evening. Within ten minutes, Gray was pulling up in the ranch's red cart, the back filled with the rest of the presents and Cliffguard pulling the front.
"Ready?" Ann mounted onto Prancer, who shuffled a little disdainfully under the newfound weight, before quieting down. She turned to give her brother the thumbs up, silencing his forthcoming insistence that she ride in the cart instead.
"I'll race ya. First one to deliver all their gifts, wins!" she said, throwing another toothy grin in his direction, before goading her Alpaca into a lilting run.
With her braid swinging behind her, Ann cackled into the night as she heard her brother fumbling to recover the lost distance. His curses fueled her competitive spirit, keeping her sharp as she lopped presents at the unsuspecting doors of the town's denizens. None of the gifts had tags, so it was easy to breeze past homes and chuck them wherever she chose, occasionally peering over her shoulder to see her brother's progress.
It was a Starry Night to remember, and the two ranch children, barring some competition, had fun in a way they hadn't in years. Despite the cold and late hour, the joy of playing made it all worthwhile. It wasn't quite what Ann had envisioned for her evening, but she was open to different kinds of adventures.
Even if, once everyone had opened their gifts the next day, all they wanted to do was kill the people who had delivered them.
Their letters from Sam read: Salutation dearest villagers! Thanks to the kindness of the Green Ranch family, these exclusive Starry Night fog horns have been delivered to your doorsteps. Only available for a limited time, they are the perfect gift for anyone needing to make their presence know on a foggy night out in the countryside. Having now opened these gifts, however, comes with particular binding consequences. For the inexpensive price of 10,000 G, to be paid off by the end of spring, these horns will be yours! Unfortunately, because their boxes have been opened, these items are non-refundable, and must be paid off by the allotted time, or else certain authorities will come for reparation. Please direct all future cheques to the Sammy Business Christmas Catalogue company, and thank you. Sincerely, Sammy the Business man.
Thanks to that, it was a Starry Night that everyone would remember.