"Same difference to them, madam."He groomed one paw."Just thought you should know.When you do make it to town, expect...attention."
Great.As if she didn't have enough to worry about.
She was finishing her bread when she heard it.
Scratching.Rustling.Then a sharp, chittering sound outside.She quietly opened the peephole in the door.The fog was thick, but she could see her grove of trees.The breadfruit, the silk tree, the—
Where was the hen and chicks plant?She carefully stepped out onto the porch, squinting.
There.The plant was there, looking slightly trampled.But the hen was gone.The chicks were gone.
On the ground was a torn paper wrapper, damp from the rain, and small tracks leading toward the forest.
She sighed in disappointment.She’d forgotten to collect the chickens last night.
Walter appeared at her elbow."Weasel, probably.Or a fox.Natural predators can pass right through the shield, you see.It only stops the monsters."
"The shield doesn't stop everything?"
"Only magical creatures and monsters.Regular animals come and go as they please."He examined the tracks."Definitely a weasel.They're bold little devils."
She stared at the torn wrapper.Now she had wildlife to deal with, too."I can grow more," she said, adding opportunistic critters to the list of things she’d have to watch out for.
"You could," Walter agreed."But you'll need to harvest them quickly.Or build a coop.Or..."He hesitated."Store them somewhere cool and safe."
Storage.Right.She had nowhere to store meat.No icebox, no—
Wait.
She went back inside, looking around her treehouse with new eyes.Counter, island, bed platform, bathroom door...
There.Near the corner by the fireplace.A seam in the floor she hadn't noticed before.A trapdoor?She knelt and ran her fingers along it.Found a recessed handle and pulled.The door lifted easily, revealing stairs leading down.Wooden steps, smooth and sturdy, disappearing into darkness below.
"Well," Walter said from behind her."That's new."
"Was this here yesterday?"
"I don't recall seeing it, no."
She fetched one of the paper lanterns and held it by the handle over the dark opening.The stairs led down into a cellar.She could see earthen walls, supporting roots from the treehouse above, and cool air rising up.It was a root cellar, built into the tree's roots themselves.
"Did the tree just...make this?"she asked.
Walter's whiskers twitched."The tree does seem to be rather accommodating, doesn't it?"
She descended slowly, the lantern held high.
The cellar was perfect.Cool, dry enough, with natural shelving formed from the roots.Space for storage and food that needed to stay cold.
If she survived tomorrow, she'd have a place to keep the chicken meat.
If she survived tomorrow.
She climbed back up and closed the trapdoor."Right," she said."I need to prepare."
