I glanced around to see other folk reading the missives. Some looked worried. Some disregarded the warning completely. And some looked downright terrified.
I shook my head. Paranoia was running rampant.
This whole situation was a mess.
I resumed my jog, headed toward the woods for some peace and quiet.
Breath sawed in and out of my lungs in a hurried rhythm timed with the pumping of my legs.
Inhale, four paces. Exhale, four paces.
Sweat slicked my skin despite the chill—I was glad for my earlier decision to forgo a cloak.
Leaves crunched beneath me, trampled into the forest floor. I typically stayed on the commonly trodden paths when I ran through the woods, but I occasionally veered further, striking new paths.
Today was one of those days.
The forest was like another home to me, as familiar as my own skin.
Squirrels scurried along tree branches to their nests, startled by the rhythmic thumping of my approach, but they didn’t go far. They were used to my presence.
This was my favorite part about the departure of the freeze season—the approach of the mild season meant I could spend more time out running, exploring, breathing fresh air. And the critters did, too.
A flash from the corner of my eye caught my attention.
It was bright, red and spotted, a glaring omen in the usually green and brown forest.
I veered off course to approach it, slowing to a walk.
The foliage was denser here.
I climbed over fallen logs and pulled my hooves out of muddy puddles. Sticks grabbed at me, snagged my hair, tugged my clothes.
I kept pushing toward that spot of red in the distance.
The treasure came into focus—a cluster of perfect, round mushrooms.
They were red and glossy, dotted with yellow spots. Their stems were hardly visible below the span of their tops. About ten of them sat, untouched, a perfect specimen. They formed a haphazard circle.
Glee lit up my stomach.
Kizzi wouldlovethese.
I spent plenty of time in the forest, sure, but I wasn't as familiar with plant life as Lunette, the druid who owned the plant shop, or even Kizzi. I didn’t recognize the mushrooms, but I was fairly sure they were safe. There were no poisonous mushrooms in the forests near Moonvale—those typically sprouted in warmer or more mountainous climates.
Kizzi was a huge fan of mushrooms—she used them in all sorts of magical concoctions.
But I was no expert.
I had to grab them for her. I searched my surroundings for something to put the mushrooms in. I’d left my satchel and my cloak at home to avoid their bouncing while I ran, so those weren’t many options. Any nearby leaves were dead and dried, and I didn’t have time to cobble them into anything resembling a platter.
I glanced down.
I’d almost forgotten I was wearing two sweaters.
Kizzi better rejoice about these mushrooms.
I stripped out of my outer layer, leaving me in my sweat-soaked under layer. It wasn’t a beautiful sight, but it would do.
