Micah was walking through a field of flowers. It only took him a second to realize it was the Privera Flower Field; he would know the place anywhere. The flowers gently danced in the breeze and the air just seemed to shimmer as if it was magical. The air was warm where it touched his skin, and lovely fragrances were all around him.

In the distance he could see a familiar figure standing amongst the blossoms. The person's back was turned to him so he could see locks of hair past the figure's shoulder. As Micah walked closer to the person they turned around to face him. The person smiled and it made Micah's heart start to flutter. She had such a nice smile…

"Micah, what are you doing here?" Shara asked, a puzzled but delighted look on her face.

He tried to search for an answer to her question, but no words came to him. Why was he here? Something at the back of his mind bothered him but he couldn't place his finger on it…

As if his brain was disconnected from his voice he said, "I just wanted to see you." What made him say that he didn't know, but it was too late to take it back now.

"Oh." An adorable blush came over Shara's fair skin, and she took a hesitant step closer to him.

"Micah, I was wondering if—um, I mean, if you—eh, n-n-nevermind." Her face became even redder and she shook her head in a flustered manner, letting her sentence trail off.

"Shara, what is it? You can tell me anything, you know."

Shara bit her lip, her usual smile gone, and looked down. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, in her usual manner—Micah had always found that trait so endearing. She looked like she was debating something. He was about to break the silence to help, but then she took a step closer. And another step. And another one. And another.

She didn't stop until she was just inches away from Micah, making his heart beat frantically; the scent of pink cats lightly flowing from her as she came nearer. She looked up at him and he could see every delicate eyelash that framed her soft blue eyes; every small freckle that spotted her cheeks. He was sure that she could hear his pounding heart. "I was wondering if—," she said the words carefully, "—if you like me."

"Of course I do. You know that…"

She hesitated and gently shook her head. "No. I meant…like me more than you would just a friend."

He could feel heat rise up in his face. Oh crud, why must his brain go frozen now? A part of his mind chided him. Say something, you idiot! She's waiting for an answer!

Instead of saying anything, he just nodded. A brilliant smile appeared on her face, making her eyes sparkle and her features lighting up. That was enough encouragement for his brain to start functioning again.

"I do," he said, his heart pounding in his ears. "I really like you, Shara. A lot. I've always had."

Shara kept on smiling. She raised her hands and clasped them behind Micah's neck. "Kiss me, then," she said softly.

And he did. Their lips touched and Micah felt as if he was floating in bliss. After a long moment they broke apart; Shara's hands still against his neck. "Oh, Monica is going to hate me," she whispered.

She reached up on her toes, trailing a path of kisses against his cheek. The scent of pink cats clung to her skin, his skin, as the feel of her lips continued to brush softly against his face. Suddenly there was a warm pressure by his ear. Then the feeling became steadily warmer. The warmth increased until it was no longer comfortable but hot—too hot…

An odd sound came from the distance, forcing his dream to fade. The sound seemed familiar…it was like a cackling—almost wheezing—sound. Micah tried to push the sound away but it kept becoming louder and louder. Then another voice appeared—this one was far too familiar for him to forget. He was recently required to listen to the voice for hours.

"Do you think I gave him too much?"

The cackling voice replied, "Nah, the tree boy is young and fit. He'll wake up soon." Only one person in the whole town called him 'tree boy'.

Micah still had his eyes closed when the strong heat came back to his ear. This time it felt oddly slimy. It reminded him of every morning when…oh, no.

His eyes flew open. Taking up his whole view, was the head of Bessy the buffamoo. Her brown eyes stared at him contentedly for a moment, and then she returned to cleaning out his ear with her tongue.

"No, Bessy, no!" Micah sat up so fast that his head began to spin. He looked up to see Marian (her previously green hair back to its normal bright blue shade) and Marjorie bursting out in laughter at him. He rubbed his slimy ear vigorously and spat out a piece of fodder that was somehow in his mouth. It took him a minute to realize that he was sitting on the floor of the dirty barn. Not a single cluckadoodle was in sight.

"Did you know," Marian said, in between gasps of breaths and laughter, "that you talk in your sleep? You were murmuring something about 'so silky' and 'adorable hands' at about the same time that Bessy decided your ears needed cleaning. That must have been one good dream."

Micah's face turned a bright red. He looked to Marjorie for help, but the old witch was laughing even harder than Marian. "Young men, nowadays! I think that wooly brain is affecting you, tree boy!" she cackled. "Too much fur up there!"

"That makes no sense," Micah mumbled, but neither of them were listening. "Where is everyone, anyways?" Micah got up from the floor and brushed off his clothes nervously. Strands of fodder were still stuck in his hair from lying on the dirty ground, but he ignored that for now. "What happened? I remember Marian had shot all of the cluckadoodles—I mean, villagers—and then after that I can't remember."

"Oh, don't worry," Marian said, with a grin still on her face. "Memory loss is a common thing after a dose of a knock-out shot."

"What?"

Marian waved away his distress. "Anyways, the important news is that the villagers are cured. And it's all thanks to me!"

Marjorie raised an incredulous eyebrow at her granddaughter. "Don't you mean that it's all thanks to me?"

The young witch suddenly looked bashful and looked down at her feet. "O-of course, dearest Grandmother." Only Marjorie could get Marian to be slightly more humble. Slightly.

Marjorie pinched her granddaughter's cheek, much to Marian's dislike, while Micah stared at them in confusion. "Sooo, what happened exactly?" he asked, trying to unsuccessfully fill in the blanks.

"Well, my cure did work," Marian said indignantly. "In a couple of minutes the medicine took effect, and then everyone turned back into their usual human selves. Eh, more or less, that is. There are some, shall we say side effects. Only minor side effects, you know…"

"The lot of them are still molting their feathers and crowing like a cluckadoodle. Not to mention, Marian also gave them all a nasty cold." Marjorie stated, while Marian began to look sheepish again.

"I did say more or less," Marian mumbled.

Marjorie continued, ignoring her granddaughter. "I finished up the council meeting, and got here just in time to see all the villagers shedding feathers. A good majority of the side effects have worn off, but some of it is still there. They're all resting up at the apothecary now, if you want to check up on them."

"Yeah, I really want to see if everyone is alright," Micah said. Then something dawned on him… "Wait, you two took everyone else back to the apothecary, but left me lying on the floor?"

"You're alive, aren't you, tree boy?" Marjorie said in a condescending tone. Then a familiar glint shone in her eyes. (Now he knew where Marian got it from.) "Besides, we didn't want to interrupt you from your sweet dreams."

Micah's face turned red, and Marian patted him on the head twice. "There, there. I can make you some tea if you would like."

Micah only made one stop before he rushed to the apothecary; leaving Marian and Marjorie still laughing at him behind at the barn. In less than twenty minutes he stood in the apothecary. To his relief, all of the smelly goop was cleaned up so the only scent in the air was herbs and medicine. However it was much, much more crowded than usual. Every inch of space was taken up by rows of patients' beds and visitors sitting at the bedsides. Pieces of furniture were pushed against the walls to make room for the overflowing number of people. Usually the apothecary only tended to about one person at a time (thus generally only one patient's bed), but almost the entire village was crammed into the building.

All of the cured villagers, who were previously cluckadoodles, were back in their human forms and lying down on the numerous neat beds. Marjorie wasn't exaggerating when she was telling him about the side effects. On just about all of the patients were feathers that hung from their faces and bodies. It wasn't a very appealing sight; every time one of them sneezed from their cold another flurry of feathers would be sent into the air. Every so often an accidental cluck would be heard from the patients still getting over Marian's side effects. Squashed between the rows of beds sat each patient's visitors.

Carlos was the first person to greet Micah. The fisherman rose from his seat by Carmen's bedside, and made his way to Micah with a fair deal of difficulty. He had to scoot in between the tight rows of people and it seemed like every other second he accidently stepped on someone's foot. After a torrent of apologizes for the people he stepped on, he finally made his way to Micah.

He patted Micah on his back. "Bro, you totally saved my sister!"

"It was Marian who made the cure," Micah said honestly, but Carlos wasn't going to believe that the crazy witch had actually made a successful medicine.

Carlos laughed and he regarded Micah with an exceedingly appreciative look. "Bro, if you're ever in need of some free fish or some back-up muscle, you know where to look. But even though you saved my sister, that doesn't mean I won't beat you up if you look at her in the wrong way."

Micah noticed his friend's suddenly stern look and he nodded quickly. "Understood."

"Great! Now I think I'm in the need of some wine…" He patted Micah once more on the back (rather roughly, if I might add), and made his way back to his sister who was currently sneezing up feathers.

As soon as he was gone he was encountered by another person. Thankfully, this time the person didn't have their sword at hand.

"Hello, Shino." Micah gave a slight bow (which was rather hard to do in the crowded space).

"Micah," the swordsman said. "You have done well in looking after my girls. Not perfect, but well enough so I don't have to use my sword."

"Thank you, ma'am, but it was Marian who had fixed everyone."

Shino raised an eyebrow. "That would explain the feathers. Marjorie has reassured me that those effects will go away soon. Until then," she sighed, "I have some cleaning to do. Feathers make quite a mess."

"I'd be more than happy to help," Micah said politely. He was often asked (aka: tricked) to help clean at the bathhouse—usually without any pay.

"I would…appreciate that. Thank you, Micah." Shino walked back to her girls. Pia was enthusiastically telling Sakuya how fun it was to swim as a cluckmaid.

No one else came up to Micah, so he made his way through the snug rows of beds as he searched through the room. On his way, Collette and Blaise waved to him from across the room. Blaise nodded his head and smiled in silent gratitude while Collette yelled enthusiastically from where she laid; saying that the next dinner would be on the house (hopefully not anything that involved cluckadoodles). As he passed, scanning the rows, he spotted Sofia in a patient's bed, a few feathers still clinging to her skin. Sitting by her was Evelyn and Sherman; each of them talking in their odd way. If you watched carefully you could see that Evelyn would snatch a fallen feather every so often.

The only person who didn't have a visitor was Daria. She was lying down in another bed that was by the corner of the room. In her hand she held a paintbrush, and her eyes were fixed on the sketchbook that rested on her lap. The brush busily swept across the surface of the sketchbook in a rapid motion. The elf didn't seem particularly lonely, but Micah still felt a bit sad for her lack of visitors. He was about to change his course to go to her, when another person opened the apothecary door. Zaid uncertainly entered the room, his famous silver eyes scanning the beds. He perked up when he saw Daria, and he puffed out his chest as he walked towards her. In just a minute, the elf and the dwarf were deep in discussion; presumably about silver being added to the colors of the rainbow.

Though Micah was relieved to see that the villagers were alright, he still had a knot of anxiety in his chest—he had yet to see the people he truly was there for. Out of nowhere, Raven stepped out of the shadows. Micah jumped at her sudden appearance, but she ignored his reaction. "They're over there," she said, pointing upstairs. "There wasn't enough room to fit them downstairs."

"Right. Thanks, Raven."

The mysterious girl nodded solemnly and melted back into the shadows. Micah clomped up the stairs, leaving the loud racket behind. About half way up he could hear the whispers of quiet conversations.

A small voice asked, "Why isn't he here?"

"I'm sure he's on his way. You just have to wait a little longer," said another voice.

A more gruff voice added, "If he doesn't get here soon and disappoints little Monica, I'll be sure to give him a piece of my mind!"

The small voice giggled while the other protested, "Grandpa!"

Micah smiled amusedly and went up the last step. In Marjorie's room, Wells was sitting on a stool in between where Monica was lying down on presumably Marjorie's bed, and where Shara was lying on another bed across from Monica. Micah popped threw the doorway, his arms wide apart, and he said in a peppy voice, "Who missed me?"

"Micah!" Monica was practically jumping in her bed at the sight of him. Her face widened into a smile, but then it quickly turned into a sad pout. "It's not fair, Micah! First I had Cluckadoodle Pox, then I turned into a cluckadoodle, and now I have a cold."

"I know it's rough, but you'll be better soon." Micah took out something from his pocket and handed it to the girl. "Take this. I got it from the Privera Field before I came here." In his hand was a small pink cat flower.

Monica giggled when she took it. "Thank you, Micah."

Luckily, there were no feathers left on her skin, though her face was still pale from the cold. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Shara. Several feathers clung to her face, and she had arranged her orange hair to try to hide some of them—it wasn't working too well.

"Hello, Micah," Shara said a bit self-consciously. She tried to slyly pull a few more strands of hair over her face.

"Nice job on saving my grandchildren, youngster." Wells said from his seat. "Though, I think I need to have a little chat with Marian…"

Micah laughed nervously as Monica tried to get his attention.

"Micah, the apothecary isn't too bad after all," informed Monica. "Marjorie has pinky-promised that she wouldn't let Marian come to see me, and if Marian does sneak up then I can bite her all I want. Also, Marjorie has been teaching me how to knit! See?" The little girl held up a bundle of half-finished blue yarn that was beginning to resemble the shape of a hat.

"Wow, that's very nice," Micah said, affectionately tousling the little girl's hair.

Wells grumbled, "Perhaps, but I could've taught her how to do it better than that old witch."

Monica stared up innocently at her grandfather. "But I thought you said that Marjorie was really talented. And that you thought she had really pretty hair. And that you liked how she laughs. And—"

Wells covered the little girl's mouth with his hand. "T-that's enough, Monica, sweetie. How would you like a cookie when we get home, hmm?" Micah would never have thought it possible, but it looked like the old man was blushing.

As the two squabbled, Micah walked to where Shara was. He sat down gently on the side of the bed, the scent of flowers slight in the air, while Shara was nervously looking away. "Hey," he said softly. "I got you this." He took out a delicate toyherb flower and presented it to her. "Freshly picked and just for you."

"That's very nice," Shara said, but she didn't take the flower. Her gaze was pointedly away from him.

He lowered the flower and looked at her with concern in his eyes. "Is something wrong, Shara?"

She quickly shook her head, tossing even more hair in her face. "No, nothing." A light pinkness showed through the strands of her hair, coloring her cheeks, but whether it was from stress or something else he couldn't tell.

Micah slowly brushed his hand over her face, and pulled back her silky orange locks behind her ears. In doing so, he also revealed the multiple white feathers attached to her. "Don't hide your face, okay? I don't like it when I can't see you."

Now Shara's face was even redder. She still avoided his gaze as she flustered. "B-b-but Micah, the feathers—they're-they're—"

"I don't care about that," Micah said firmly, staring into her blue eyes. "Listen. Once you're well again why don't we take a walk through Privera Flower Field, okay? I want to tell you something."

For the first time since he arrived, Shara looked him in the eyes. A timid smile passed her lips as she nodded. "Okay."

The two of them talked for a long while, totally oblivious to the fact that Monica and Wells were silently watching them. At one point, Marian poked her head through the doorway with her trusty needle in hand. She was about to say something when she saw Monica threateningly chomping her teeth at her. The blue-haired witch wisely backed away and went back down the staircase, while Shara and Monica were alone in their own little world, gazing into each other eyes.

Wow, I cannot believe that it is actually done. D.O.N.E! I have to admit, this chapter, amongst the others, became much more "fluffier" than I originally planned out. Ha, I suppose I lost a lot of my subtlety in the last romantic bits. Oh well, I suppose. Since I write more spontaneously than anything (meaning I just sit down and write with only 25% percent of a vague plan, and the other percent just writing as it comes to me) just about anything can happen. And the whole dream sequence was definitely NOT part of any plan I had in mind until the last minute, but I think it added a nice sweetness and humor to the story later. Also, I will continue to check/change for any typos I might have missed in the first drafts, so if you come back to the story and it is slightly changed, please do not be alarmed. I won't make any HUGE, completely different plot changes. Anyways, enough with that ramble.

Also, I kind of lied. Sorry! I was full-on planning to publish this last chapter and the prologue to my new story on the same day, but my impatience got the best of me. Don't worry though; I think it will only take about 1-3 days for me to publish my new story. However, I will give you a little sneak-peak: It will be about Harvest Moon (sorry for those who only play Rune Factory) and it will involve around a bet/contest that takes place in ten days (I sure do love the number ten…).

And lastly, I would like to thank those who have loyally followed my first multi-chapter story all the way! Thank you; you're the best! I hope you have enjoyed my story, and I would really appreciate it if you were to continue coming back for more (because there will be more)! Also, I would gladly accept reviews whether they are praises or friendly criticism. I don't care if they are one page to one word—as Kuruna would say: "GIMME, GIMME!" So yeah, to sum it all up: please come back for more, and I will love any reviews I get! Thanks!