Hi! I'm back. I don't think many people are reading this, but you who are should know that I am just starting this story, and I have no intention (currently) of giving up. I like this idea.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how well this chapter reads, I wasn't overly pleased with it.

Thanks all,

Echo

That did not just happen. That did not just happen!

But the proof stood in front of her, three teenagers recovering from taking down a monster. The brunette girl was tying her ribbon in her hair again, the boy was stuffing things back into his backpack, and the blonde was inspecting her nails. All as nonchalant as could be.

Rowan was still dazed by the sheer bizarreness of it. She simply sat and watched them, jaw dropped, until the blonde noticed her and asked, "So who is that?"

Suddenly remembering the girl on the road, the siblings spun toward her. The boy smiled and adjusted his blue and white cap.

Rowan managed to close her mouth.

"Oh, right! Hi! I'm Dipper," he gestured to the brunette, "This is my sister Mabel, and this," he gestured to the blonde, "Is Pacifica." There was a moment of silence.

The brunette, Mabel, smiled and asked, "Your name was Rowan, right?"

Rowan managed a nod, but something about her must have looked off because the boy looked concerned. He started walking toward her, slowly, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked her the same question as before, but now softer as if he was afraid a sudden action or loud noise would cause her to bolt.

Rowan focused her eyes on him, her mind oh-so-slowly leaving the impossibility of the situation and arriving at the reality of it. This had actually happened. She looked at him, trying to think. There was a really annoying image of a single, golden cat eye that kept filling her mind when she looked at him. What it was, Rowan had no idea, but the kid was waiting for a response. She decided to try to communicate.

"That totally happened, didn't it?" Rowan pushed herself up off the ground, and brushed off the dirt on her legs. Dipper nodded.

"Yeah, it did." The worry faded, and he seemed slightly proud now. "We do things like this on a regular basis – you'd be surprised just how weird this town can get."

This time, Pacifica spoke. "So why are you here, exactly?" But Rowan still couldn't think. She needed to get away from the boy. She needed some space. NOW. Backing up, she picked up her bike.

"I – I have to go. Now." Without waiting for a response, she climbed on her bike and pedaled fast. Someone called out for her to wait, but she simply yelled a "Bye!" over her shoulder and turned onto the road into town.

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other. Mabel was smirking.

"Well, that was rude." Pacifica stated. She was offended and entirely oblivious to the nonverbal conversation happening between the twins. With a grin and a glance down the road, Mabel was insisting that they follow the stranger. Dipper was feigning shock and shaking his head, saying that he had better things to do. But Mabel crossed her arms.

Rolling his eyes, Dipper broke the silence. "Do we have to?" Mabel nodded, her smile growing ridiculously large.

"Come on, bro! it will be fun!" Dipper sighed, shouldered his backpack, and started down the road toward town. Mabel skipped beside him.

Caught off guard, Pacifica had to hurry to catch up. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Come on, Paz," Dipper lamented. "Mabel wants to make a new friend."

.oOo.

Her grandmother's antique shop was a calming, relatively normal place to be. It was a shadowy place, clean and crowded with old furniture and trinkets. The smell of old books and stored clothes settled in the air. All this relaxed Rowan; it felt homey. The place was safe, comfortable, and not weird.

She was in the back of the store, organizing different types of jewelry and cleaning them if necessary. The necklaces, rings, and earrings were old fashioned, but Rowan liked them. They had a certain charm.

Oma had lots of jewelry thanks to one particular family. A few years back, this family had lost a huge fortune, and ever since they've regularly sold old jewels and family heirlooms. When the jewelers and the pawn shop down the street didn't want something, the family would sell it to Oma. What she could pay for things was hardly ever what it was worth. But hey, cash was cash, and that was all the Northwests cared about.

As Rowan polished a particularly blue stone set in a thick golden necklace (not real gold, otherwise the jeweler would have bought it), she thought about those three kids and the monster. She strongly considered the idea that she was insane. And then there was the fact that she somehow didn't remember falling asleep, or how she injured her shoulder. Man. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I've cracked from the pressure of the divorce. She didn't like thinking about that subject, but it seemed relevant.

Despite the strangeness of the day, Rowan found herself excited. If - and this was a big if - the encounter with the mosquito and Dipper and them had been real, then there were endless possibilities. What else was out there?

Rowan finished her chore, and got up to ask Oma what else she should do to help close up shop. She followed the sound of humming until she found her grandmother dusting off an old china display case. She seemed so at home, like she belonged here. Hm, Oma has lived in Gravity Falls a long time.

"Oma?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Have you ever encountered any… oh, I dunno, monsters?" Oma stilled her dusting and turned, her long skirt dancing around her ankles from the movement. Her expression looked concerned, but there was something else in her expression that Rowan couldn't place.

"Monsters dear?" Rowan nodded. Oma's brow creased a little before her expression relaxed. "Well, none that I can think of at the moment." She laughed a little. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh… No reason." But Rowan was dying for an answer to this afternoon's encounter. Her fear had left her, and now she was only curious – terribly curious. Also, she really didn't want to be insane.

"Alright dear…" Oma seemed concerned again, but it didn't keep her from ordering Rowan to the store's attic.

The attic was a small, dusty place. It was only used for excess storage should Oma need to remove something from the store. And Rowan was pretty sure it was a graveyard. Once something was moved to the attic, it hardly ever saw the storeroom again.

A small lightbulb at the top of peaked ceiling cast shadows on pile after pile of boxes, old chairs, tables and chests. Peering around the small room, Rowan was looking for a suitable place for three ancient table cloths Oma had told her to put away.

In the very back of the attic was a heavy, black chest. She figured that that was a good a pace as any. Placing the table cloth pile on a precarious stack of boxes, she unlatched the chest and opened it. A strong herbal smell spilled into the dry air of the attic, infusing the air with a unique aroma usually found only in a meadow. The only thing inside the chest was a small, drawstring purse.

Fascinated, Rowan reached in to pick it up. It was made from a deep blue, soft material, and ornate, twisting patterns were stitched on it. The detail was exquisite, and the embroidery which covered the bottom three quarters of the bag reminded her of wispy clouds. It was old, that was evident from the style and make, but there were no loose threads or other signs of decay. There was clearly nothing in it; it hung limp in her hands, and the only weight was that of the cloth it was made from.

Putting the bag aside, Rowan folded the table cloths into the chest. When she went to put the bag away though, something inside her resisted. She liked this bag. So instead, she closed the trunk and took the purse with her downstairs.

Clicking off the lightbulb, she didn't notice the strange triangle symbol on the trunk glow with a golden light for a moment in the dark room before fading away.