Welcome to Paisley Pastures

Surely, Becca was lost. The man at the gas station must have misdirected her, or she heard wrong... There's no way her Gram had summoned her out all this way, past the only town for miles in the middle of nowhere, into the woods wayyy beyond where even cars could go... Well, actually, the gas station man hadn't said anything about walking. Come to think of it, he probably meant for her to keep following the main road. Why had she decided to get out of the truck again? He pointed straight past these forested mountains. When the road had curved, continuing on foot seemed like the obvious choice at the time. Now though, she felt a little silly. Then "a little silly" turned into steep, panic-inducing fear. She was all sorts of turned around, miles from her vehicle or any civilization with night fast approaching. What had she been thinking?!

"Ohhhh fiddlesticks," she nervously muttered, twiddling her thumbs. "What a fine mess you've gotten into this time, Becca... A fine mess!" Her eyes darted around, trying to figure out if she'd seen that tree before. That rock to the right looked familiar... But so did the log on her left. Or was she remembering another log? Also, why was she still walking? 

'CRONCH,' protested the dry leaves as she planted her foot, hard, as though she didn't trust them not to start moving again. Truthfully, she hadn't realized she was still walking. Moving forward would only get her more lost, especially before she figured out which way she had come from. She just needed to stop, breathe, and collect her bearings. Or more importantly, find a landmark! Unfortunately all the flora seemed to look the same but... that snail! It couldn't have moved very far in the last few minutes. She remembered that snail distinctly too, because it had a fish tail! 

...

Wait, what?

"Bahh!"

"GAHHH!" No sooner had Becca settled herself than she leapt away dancing and jittering from the shrill noise... That had sounded from... behind her knees?? Baffled, she turned and looked down, to find a friendly, excitable dog. It was covered in curly (and extremely soft!) black and white splotched fur. Though poofy around the majority of its coat, it thinned out to short, straight black fur around the legs. Someone must keep this dog well groomed! It did bear a bright red collar, though even it's bold coloring was all but absorbed into that coat. The only reason she'd noticed it at all was thanks to the small, golden bell hanging from the front. It sang quietly now and again, though the dog's fur was so thickly cushioned it muffled the sound considerably. Becca excavated the collar from its plush entrapment to read the nametag.

"Loretta, huh?"

"Bahh!" the dog exclaimed again, panting and prancing around her legs. 

"Aww," Becca cooed, kneeling down to pet it. She was a very affectionate dog! Even though those sharp hooves jabbed into her side a bit. Hooves...

"Bah!"

"Ohhh, I get it. A sheepdog! Clever," Becca scratched her ears, earning excited whines from the sheepish-dog. "Hey, can I follow you home? I need someone to give me directions. I'm looking for my Gramma's farm." Becca hadn't particularly expected a response, but after a moment of cocking her head, Loretta stood and began trotting off further into the wood. "Thanks!" Becca forgot all about her previous panic (and the bizzare fish-snail), darting after this mysterious dog. All her focus became trained on keeping up with her- not that she was running particularly fast, Becca just kept tripping over rocks, branches and occasionally her own two feet. Eventually, though, Loretta led her to an overlook at the edge of the treeline. Becca looked out in awe- without a curtain of trees in her way, a valley full of farmland and open pastures, animals of all sorts roaming. Some species, she didn't even recognize! What an odd collection of farms...

But! Her Gram had summoned her out to a farm past the mountain! Maybe she was in the right place! She turned back to Loretta, only to find her already picking her way down the mountainside. Cautiously, Becca pursued. Though it shouldn't have been any surprise to anyone when she slipped and slid down the entire slope halfway down. She accidentally ran into Loretta on the way, granting her a surprise sled ride in her lap. With a 'THUD,' both landed at the bottom relatively unharmed, minus their pride perhaps. Loretta jumped off immediately, indignant. Becca, on the other hand, took a moment to recover, head spinning. 

"Ugh." When her vision finally stopped doing cartwheels, she was able to make out the fuzzy silhouette of a person in front of her. It was an older gentleman, wearing overalls and a straw hat. He didn't emote much, just standing and watching, chewing slowly and thoughtfully on a toothpick. "Oh!" Becca jumped up and brushed herself off. "Uh, hi! H-hello sir! I was just, uh-"

"Believe you've found my dog," the man said, gaze switching to Loretta, tail wagging happily. "Loretta," he whistled plainly, starting on his way again. Obediently, the dog trotted after him. 

"Wait!" Becca stumbled after him. "What is this place? What are all these animals? Why was there a snail with a fish tail in the woods?"

"Eh? Sounds like you found Snazzle. I'll tell Stephanie. She's pro'lly lookin' fer 'im." 

"Snazzle?"

"He runs off a lot. Fast bugger fer a snail."

"Okay..." Not once had the man stopped walking. Becca picked up the pace to keep up. "I'm Becca!" she interjected quickly, hoping to catch his attention.

"Abner," he replied simply, still walking. 

"Nice to meet'cha!" Becca smiled wide. "So um, Abner, I'm looking for this address. Could you give me directions?" She handed over the rumpled slip of paper. Abner finally stopped in his tracks, long enough to squint at the handwriting. After scrutinizing it with furrowed brows, he glanced critically back up to Becca. She suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"You Paisley's kid?"

"Grandaughter, but yes! You knew Gram?" Becca took the paper back before Abner started walking again. 

"Sure. Her farm's at the back of the valley." He pointed. Following his gaze, Becca spotted a main road. It was a dirt road, but it was something. At last, a road she could follow!

"Really? That's swell! Thanks so much! Bye, Loretta!" Becca waved before taking off sprinting.

"Baah!"

Now that she was closer, this place really wasn't like any place she'd ever seen before. She jogged past several open fields and pastures, full of roaming critters which seemed familiar, yet not at all. Lots of cows and sheep and the like that were all a little bit wrong. Creatures with extra limbs, some with missing limbs, some growing plants on their bodies... some Becca didn't recognize at all. Maybe they were hybrids, or some completely foreign creature? But that wasn't possible, right? Surely she would've heard about it!

These farms were huge, and it often took her a mile or two just to pass the next one. She'd run out of energy by now and had slowed from a sprint, to a jog, now to a shamble. She really wished she'd brought her truck. Becca wasn't exactly in the best shape. 

She noticed another sign coming up, and a driveway to the next house. Their farm wasn't a name she was familiar with, but maybe the owner would be willing to give her a lift? She huffed all the way down the drive, and noticed there weren't any cars here either. The owners weren't home, just her luck. Defeated, she slumped by the fence to one of their pastures, watching the bizarre animals contained within. 

"Pfff," puffed a breath of hot air behind her.

"GAH!" She whipped around to the face of a loose donkey, who lazily watched her. He had a piebald patterned coat, and whiskers that twitched curiously. Did donkeys normally have whiskers? "Oh, hello," she sighed, heart still pounding. "You animals gotta stop doing that," she chuckled, lifting her hand to the donkey's muzzle. "You don't happen to know where Gram's farm is, do ya?" The donkey took in a big whiff of her shirt, and started to nibble on her hair. She swatted him off. "No no, none of that," she scolded, pulling it back. The donkey snorted indignantly, turning his back to her. Now face to, erm, butt, with his behind, she noticed he had a rather fluffy and curly tail. Donkeys definitely didn't normally have curly tails. 

"How rude," she spat, trying to escape from the fur now tickling her nose. She glared at the stubborn creature for a moment, before conjuring up a terrible, terrible idea. Quietly, except not that quietly at all, she tiptoed around to his side. And, without properly calculating the distance, trajectory, or anything at all, leapt for his back. She wound up draped halfway across, feet dangling and kicking, trying to leverage her way upright. It was a miracle the donkey didn't immediately buck her off. Instead, he held very still, casting an almost disappointed look back at her. 

"Pffff," he nickered again, trotting slowly away with his unbalanced cargo. 

"Wait! I didn't tell you which way to go yet!" Her demands fell on large, but deaf ears. He kept plodding along... in the right direction, actually. Oh. 

'I guess this is fine,' Becca thought, awkwardly crossing her arms and surrendering to her fate. She hoped his owner wouldn't mind her borrowing him. 

Dangling, Becca lost track of how long he'd been carrying her. She wasn't even paying attention to where they were going anymore. She was just... really tired. Though hanging halfway off the back of a donkey wasn't a particularly comfortable position, the rhythmic 'clop, clop' of his steps started lulling her to sleep. Her eyelids flickered, and she stretched with a yawn. Maybe five minutes...

Rudely, she was interrupted by the ground. "OW!" She sat upright, having been dumped on the hard dirt. She glared daggers at her transport, who stared blankly back. He hadn't bucked her actually, just stopped abruptly enough to unbalance her. "Oh... fair enough." She stood and brushed herself off. She glanced around to get her bearings and realized she'd been deposited right next to a sign. "Paisley Pastures," she read aloud. "Hey! We're here! How did you know?" She excitedly exclaimed, hugged the donkey's neck. He huffed again and trotted away, towards a nearby barn. Becca, meanwhile, darted down the driveway and towards her Gram's house. Odd... no cars in the drive. There hadn't been at the other house either though, maybe people here just didn't use cars. Undeterred, she knocked on the door. 

"Gram?" The door creaked open upon the pressure, so Becca welcomed herself inside. The lights were out, but sunlight washed in through the windows so it was easy to navigate. "Gram? It's Becca! I got your letter..." She poked around into a few rooms, but it was eerily quiet. "Hmm," she twiddled her thumbs, wondering what to do. She was too tired to go back to town and look for her, so she opted to wait here. She was sure Gram wouldn't mind if she took a nap- walking for miles admittedly took it out of her. 

There didn't seem to be a guest room, and the couch was cluttered with boxes, so Becca flopped onto Gram's plush mattress. She rolled over in search of a clock. What time even was it? She found no clock, but there was a card propped tent-style on the corner. Oddly enough, it had Becca's name on the cover. Baffled but intrigued, she sat back up, leaning against the headboard and opened it up.

Dearest Becca,

I hope you find this note favorably. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to deliver this myself, but your uncle has been insistent on moving me out to the city with him. Now, this farm is my life and my home. Your Pappy and I raised our family here. The Pastures saw us through times good and bad. I never imagined myself living anywhere else. 

I'm afraid, however, your uncle is right. Since your Pappy died, this farm hasn't been the same. And now that I'm up in years, I can't tend the place myself. It broke my heart, but I had to sell most of the animals to keep the Pastures from going under. Old reliable Eighty-Six, and sweet Lucille are the only two left. The farm needs young blood to revive it. I called you out here because I'd like you to be that young blood, Becca.

It's a lot to ask of you, but know that you wouldn't be alone. Eighty-Six knows the run of the farm, and an old friend of mine, Abner, promised to show you the ropes. With a bit of work, I'm sure you can turn this place around. If you like, I think you could even make it your home.

Take care Little Squash

Love, Gram

Becca let her hands fall slowly to her lap. Gram had always been notorious for dropping bombs on them last minute, but this took the cake. Somehow, she wasn't entirely surprised. That didn't change the fact, though, that she had no experience tending animals, let alone running a farm. That Abner man didn't seem much for words when they'd met- he could have told her some of this, couldn't he? Though, she recalled with a blush, she had taken off running as soon as he pointed. 

Glancing back to the side table, Becca noticed a photo previously tucked behind the card. It was old but well preserved, painted entirely in sepia and displayed in a worn, black-stained frame. It was of her Gram when she was younger, beaming beside a young donkey calf. The same donkey that brought her here, just younger! Obviously. Becca pried open the back of the frame to find a caption scrawled on the back of the photograph- 'Paisley Knoll and Eighty-Six.' So the donkey was Eighty-Six?! What a weird name...

Gram never asked much of anyone, not even Becca. But now that she did have a request, albeit a tall order, Becca didn't have the heart to turn her down. It wasn't like she had much to lose. 

She glanced fondly around the room. Gram was right. She could make this a home. Her home.

Tomorrow. She could make it her home tomorrow. She was too exhausted to do anything tonight. Without bothering to change her clothes or even take off her shoes, Becca slid under the blankets and dreamt of strange donkeys with whiskers and fluffy tails.