Patience grunted, stretching out her back. She had just finished tilling the soil and retired for a well deserved break. Neat little rows spread before her, ready to accept seeds for lettuce, onions, and tomatoes. The sun remained confident today with only sparse clouds skittering across the sky. She sat on the porch steps admiring her work on the chicken wire fence around the garden’s perimeter. The wire was always a pain to straighten after being rolled up for the winter, this year she had it tamed without too much frustration.

“This is your daily life?” asked Anax.

“Well I don’t seed a garden everyday, but for the most part yes, all my days I’m mostly working,” said Patience picking dirt from her olive skin. “Day in, day out, I do something to keep this household running.”

“Tiresome.”

“Well what did you do every day in your first life?”

“Hunted. Socialized.”

“See? That’s not all that different.”

“But we moved to different parts of the forests. You stay in one place.”

“Not everyone can be a nomad,” said Patience, “People like having a place to call home and go back to.”

“What’s a place to go back to if you never leave it?”

Patience thought for a moment but failed to come up with a response. She sat silent staring down at her dirty hands, the bridge of Anax’s snout just in the forefront of her vision.

“I’ve left it before. I’ve been on a couple trips with my parents to visit the city … they did mostly work all the time … to ensure I was well-cared for …” She wiped her hands on a cloth draped over the porch railing. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Patience sprang up and stomped across the planks, throwing open the back door. She kicked off her new galoshes in the mudroom and skipped a short way down the hall to her room. Snatching her purse off the dresser, she opened it and took out a few dollar coins. With them in hand, the girl stepped towards a closed door across the hallway. Slowly, she opened it. Inside, a zoo of animals greeted her with dead glass eyes in the dim light. Anax hummed at the new sight.

“This was my parents’ room,” Patience explained, meandering around stuffed stoats and otters playing around thick logs. The animals were all arranged carefully around a pristinely dressed double bed. Hawks and gamefowl burst forth from plaques hung on the wall. A lynx prowled in the near corner. A badger snarled at the foot of the bed. Atop a dresser adjacent to the shuttered window, glass cloches housed tiny songbirds. “These were my father and mother’s favorite specimens. Originally they were spread throughout the house but after their passing … I thought I’d put them in here …”

The girl reached into the mouth of the badger, producing a small key. She then pulled out the bottom drawer of the dresser and inserted the key into an almost indistinct hole. Something within the piece of furniture clicked, a panel from its side popped out. Patience removed it and proceeded to extract a wooden box. She set it upon the bed with a soft thump, wisps of dust launched from the quilt.

“What is this?” asked Anax.

“Savings. Most of it I inherited from my parents. Well—everything you see around you is from them. But I contribute a bit of my earnings every time I can.” She dropped her coins onto the mound of bills and similar coins.

“That is a large sum,” the skull remarked.

“Yes, you never know when you might need it,” said Patience closing up the box. She returned the box, false side, drawer, and key to their previous settings. Leaning back, she gazed over her parents’ room once more before she left. The door closed softly in respect.

“Now to sow the seeds?” drawled Anax.

“Yes.”

She thought she heard a wheeze of air at the nape of her neck. His equivalent of a sigh she guessed.

The sun hung high over their heads, signaling noon. Patience wiped the sweat from her brow as she beamed over her work. Each row was marked, sown, and watered. Several mirror shards were hung along the fencing to scare birds away. Clucking in frustration, the chickens observed from the wire fence. The treasures buried beneath a thin layer of soil tempted their beaks.

“Agriculture is so tedious,” Anax quipped.

“Maybe, but it’s reliable,” said Patience gulping from a canteen of water.

“When can we eat one of those?” A misty tendril pointed to the chickens. They scattered upon sight of Anax’s appendage.

Patience twisted her mouth, “Only when one of them stops producing eggs.”

“I can’t wait!”

“Eggs aren’t a terrible thing though. I’ll make a quiche for dinner.” Quiche was something the Firmins made only for company, but Patience decided to treat herself tonight for a hard day’s work. Granted she was not totally alone with Anax now present. Perhaps he could have a taste.

During dinner, Patience noticed the smallest of tendrils extend from the fluttering cowl around her neck. It passed lightly over the crisp golden brown crust and across the warm eggy surface of the quiche. It stopped inside the cut Patience made that exposed layers of egg and spinach. Anax retracted his substitute tongue. He uttered a grunt and left it at that. Patience chuckled to herself.