Chelsea found in the next few days that A) Taro was very frightening when it came to farming, and B) she was actually alright at it. He had brought her the basic tools necessary, and seemed astounded by her ability.
"You'll make a great rancher, Chelsea. I can feel it," Taro said, disregarding her heavy, relentless panting.

"You think so?" She grinned famously at the fellow, drenched in sweat and besprinkled in dirt. Though she appeared even more tattered than she had the previous day-her clothes worked fresh markings and her face was shabby from smearing it across her grubby arms, her spirit soared. Her smile was the most fantastic thing any of the islanders had ever witnessed, especially considering their situation. Taro nodded approvingly at her and tapped his walking stick on the muddy ground.

"I'll be heading back now. Do drop by if anything comes up."

"Right," Chelsea beamed.

Once the old man had left, the brunette giggled relief, tossing her hands up to tousle to her damp hair. Oh how the spring breeze felt nice on her skin. She flipped her hair over and raked her fingers through it, ignoring the intense knotting. The rest of her was just as disheveled, so why should she care?

Clumsily, she washed herself in the tiny spring close to the farm. It was cool, fresh water, perfect for her farming needs. She splashed the refreshing liquid across her face before pausing, befuddled, to stare at her reflection.

"Huh?"

Her own femininity startled her like a blow to her side. She had large, vastly blue eyes and warm chestnut hair that didn't look as tangled as it seemed as it toppled awkwardly off one side of her head, down to her ribcage. Her skin was pale, yet possessed a certain richness in its tone. She traced her jaw with her thumb tenderly; it was square-like, well pronounced. Her nose poked up daintily at the tip. Her lips were set in a malevolent, catlike position.
Her own appearance flustered her brilliantly. She was tiny too, and that thickened her confusion.

"Pfft," she scoffed. "I'm good," confessed herself shakily. Though she had expected something meaner, tougher looking, she didn't care!

"Hey there. Having fun talking with yourself?"

This high, smooth voice interrupted Chelsea's thoughts, and even set her aback. But suddenly, before her was a beautiful blond woman in cowgirl-ish clothing. She smirked at Chelsea, amused by her current position.

"Oh yeah," Chelsea return once her composure did. "Loads of fun."

"Hmf," the woman hummed with a content expression as she offered to help Chelsea to her feet. "I'm Julia. Gonna be living on this island."

Chelsea took the offer and immediately brushed off her clothes, noticing Julia's spotless ones. "I'm...Chelsea."

"You don't sound too sure."

"I'm not sure of much right now, just that I'm the new farmer around here."

Julia's lips curled up, "Right. Well, my family's here to help you with all your ranching needs."

"Ranching... Like with animals?" Chelsea wondered.

The blond nodded and Chelsea drew back her faint smile. Julia cocked her head subtly, quizzically.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just not the greatest with animals. Oh course, though, I'll try my best," Chelsea explained quickly, expressing real enthusiasm. Julia smiled too, glad for a girl with such a peppy attitude. Usually it was her who had to get people going.

"That's great," she remarked. "Uh... I'll see you around. My mom only wanted me to drop by the say hi. Visit our shop sometime?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"M'kay. I have to go help her clean. You good with getting yours cleaned up?"

"I'm actually finished."

"Nice," she complimented sweetly. "See ya'."

Chelsea waved her farewell and seated herself back on the ground before watching the blond bound back across the bridge.

Once again, she was alone. The air swept by her, and her attention was driven back to it.

She decided nature was the most pleasant thing she could think of, and it was not just because she didn't have memory of anything else... She breathed in the breeze greedily.

Memory. That was the name of the ranch. Memory Ranch. These would be her new memories... This was her home.
She settled herself in the damp grass and sighed gleefully, laughing on her breath. The water flowed oddly in the spring beside her, swirling in a circle due to an unknown, underground movement. The dulcet sound was music to her, and she listened as she hummed alongside it. Everything felt at peace.

It was strange that she refused to question her happiness or her origin, but this was just Chelsea.

In the next few days, people flooded into town. Sunny Island people called the place as they chatted about starting over in this new scene. First in was a carpenter who instantly found satisfying work on the run-down island. He only gruffly greeted Chelsea, stating his name was Gannon and his purpose on the island: to build and fix stuff. A merchant also came in, looking for a peaceful place to set up shop and raise his young son. Others moved in without official greeting at her home. Lastly, Chelsea got around to meeting up with Julia and meeting her mother, Mirabelle.

Mirabelle was a plump woman in her late forties. Her blond hair was streaked with pieces of grey, but her smile brought her youth back in an instant, and Chelsea took a great liking to the woman. She was kind, down to earth, and motherly, but not quite in the same way Felicia was. Mirabelle displayed her annoyance with evasion promptly; she was a blunt person. However, it wasn't a bad thing at all. In fact, Chelsea admired it in her.

"Okay you two, we can't sit here and chat for hours," Julia complained after realizing she'd completed decorating her bedroom while they were conversing back and forth.

"I think her stories are so interesting though!" Chelsea pouted happily.

"Oh, no," Mirabelle chuckled, feeling as though Chelsea's comment was only in her welfare. "You two should go explore the island. No need to keep me company. I've plenty of work to do."

"If you insist," Julia said lackadaisically, grabbing Chelsea by the arm and pulling her away from her mother. No one complained, but Chelsea felt a pang of insecurity.

Just as they passed through the door, a strawberry blond Elliot was slipping by them.

"Hello Julia," he said rather nervously.

"Elliot," she returned with a smug smile before tossing her hair his direction as if she didn't care. He clenched his teeth carefully, also feigning apathy.

Once he was out of ear-shot and they were nearing the general store, Chelsea mumbled, "You intend to toy with him, don't you?"
She shook her head, flopping her curls across her shoulders. "Not toy with him... He's actually pretty cute."

"Oh. I guess I wouldn't know."

"That he's cute?"

"I haven't seen many guys, Julia."

"What? You're kidding me, right?" She halted and flipped around to give me skeptical glance. "What, were you raised in complete solitude?"

Chelsea frowned darkly and shifted into an instant melancholy tone. "Um. I was holed up from the world most of my life by my abusive mother... She kind of..."

Julia looked positively aghast, her jaw slack. Her hand cupped her mouth in shock. Chelsea suppressed a laugh.
"I'm kidding. Truth be told, I just can't remember. Hit my head a week or so back."

"Really?" she beamed sympathetically, a little tempered from the joke. "I'm so sorry, Chels!"

Chelsea shrugged acceptingly. "I don't really mind. I mean, if I ever get my memory recovered I might mind, but for now, I'm just dealing with everything as it comes along."

"That's amazing... And you know, Elliot should be about the mid-point for you when it comes to cute guys," she explained smugly.

Chelsea sniffed. "Not really sure what to think of that. And I don't think I'm the right person to judge guys."
"Oh, come on! I need someone to girl talk with!"

Chelsea doubted this. "Someone to girl talk with or someone to be there to listen to you blab on about such guys?"
Her eyes lit up fiercely. "Chelsea... I can't believe you know me so well."

They both stifled a laugh and walked across the river, chatting about mindless things until the sun had drooped and an orange radiance filled the sky.