It had been easy enough to follow the directions the hostess at the inn had given Mal to the marketplace in town. In fact, it had been pleasantly easy. After his recent outing to the fields outside of town, Mal was fairly certain he would be able to find enough dandelions to make a large amount of dandelion wine, if only he could get the materials he would need. That was the real problem with the whole endeavor. He'd opened an account with the local bank and had just under 500G available to spend. Looking at some of the prices in the shops, that probably wasn't anywhere near what might he'd need to make a large batch of dandelion wine.

Money was going to rapidly become a problem. If he was to work towards anything, he was going to need to find a job. If only to last him until he figured out how he was going to start a vineyard. There had been some good soil out in Buttercup Meadows, but there was the matter of having a house and cellar to work with He did not have one. Mal just had a single room in the inn that he'd need to pay for again in the near future. It was a nice room, but Mal didn't intend to stay there any longer than he needed to do so.

A job and maybe a partner. If I could find someone willing to provide materials, I could let them have a fair share of the wine. What they did with it would be there business.

It was a plan. A flimsy plan. One that he'd given all of five minutes thought in total over the last few days, but it was a plan. And Mal knew that one of the few ways you ever got things done was to have even a basic plan to work from. He'd spotted the local clinic on the way in. That would come in handy if he ever got particularly sick. Or if another dog attacked him. Mal shuddered inwardly. It wasn't something he liked to think about.

That dog in that town a year before. It had been all teeth and slobber. Mal was normally good with animals, but for some reason that dog had just snapped. It had all happened so fast. Ground. Pain. Shouts. He could still see the blood on the animal's muzzle as it's owner hauled it off of him. The barks still made his ears ring in the depths of the night. Mal had been a bit worried by any large dog he saw since then. It didn't matter if it was a tremendous friendly-looking mutt; Mal just couldn't be near them long. When one had barked behind him once, he'd almost soiled himself.

Let's think about something else, shall we? The plan. Focus on the plan. Let's learn where things are, then work on a job or a partner willing to help you make some wine. Focus, Mal, focus.

Mal paused by a bench, and took in his surroundings.

Amber Damant was not one for window shopping; this was simply because of the fact that she knew she was going to end up spending far more than she ever intended to, due to her lack of self-control in such areas. But on this lovely spring day, she had not been able to resist the lure of the marketplace. She had, however, made a very smart move- she had left the bulk of her wallet at home, which left her with enough in her pocket to buy a few cups of coffee and that was it. She knew she had not the funds for leisure shopping, for you see the woman was very lacking in employment.

Wouldn't job hunting be a lot more productive than window shopping? she thought to herself, but dropped the train of thought when she came across a little clothing shop, the mannequin sporting summery denim shorts and a flowy top. Her pace slowed down considerably as she passed by, but she refrained from entering. With a little sigh, the woman sat herself down on a bench, surrounded by a rather cute assortment of shrubbery. She rested her cheek in her palm, legs crossed and elbow on her knee. She was bored- this town was so sleepy. Perhaps that was what drew her to it in the first place? Perhaps, perhaps.. But nonetheless she hoped it would start getting a little more lively as the spring season got on a roll.

It was at that point that a man, rather absent-minded looking, approached the bench where Amber was sitting; he didn't seem to see her, and it was one of those times where you would never expect someone to speak to you. Amber loved those times! "Hello," she said, as he took a quick glance around him. She smiled, very faintly and almost knowingly. What was she planning? Nothing, actually. She was just bored, and this man seemed like someone who could use a little waking up- out of his thoughts, that is.

Thinking of the dog again, Mal veered a sharp right in his head and ran into the idea of a cat. There had been a box of kittens in one town that he'd passed through four months before. A cute calico in the bunch had been particularly sweet. Mal had spent a good hour playing with the kittens. He would have loved to have taken the calico with him. But the road was no place to carry a kitten, especially when Mal himself had gone without food for a couple of days when walking between towns. Sure, he had always made sure to have some snacks to eat on, but not a proper meal. It would have wrecked the poor kitten's sto-

"Hello."

A voice interrupted Mal's reverie, and he twisted around to the source. As he'd been wandering along, he'd failed to notice the young woman that was occupying the bench he'd chosen to pause by. Did she think him rude? No, people tended to be more upset when they thought he was being rude. She looked a little tan, which was a bit better than Erin, the first villager he met, had been. And this new one had a relatively normal shade of brown hair compared to Erin's white. However, the woman on the bench's hair looked black where a shadow crossed it. A ghost of a smile crept across her face as Mal watched.

You could tell I wasn't here, couldn't you?

"Hello to you as well, how's the day treating you?"

Amber had half-expected the man to jump at her voice, but she didn't receive so extreme a response; he did, however, appear to have been jolted out of some thought. She felt a flicker of apology, wondering if she had interrupted anything too important; but of course if that was the case he could simply greet her back and continue on his way. He didn't look unwelcoming, the woman noted, as she let him float back into the present. Oh I love people watching, she thought- and to think this one had stumbled right to her.

"Hello to you as well, how's the day treating you?" was his response, and Amber was inwardly glad for even this much conversation. Finding herself in solitude had become somewhat of a habit, not that she really minded most of the time. "Oh.. not too badly thanks," she ventured, her tone absently contemplative. "I was just doing some window shopping. And you?"

"I was just doing some window shopping. And you?"

"Several thing really. Learning my way around town, trying to figure out where I'm going to get the money I'll need, and wondering how hard it would be to find a job around here."

Mal let his stance go a bit slack as he stuck his hands into his pockets. It wasn't everyday people struck up a conversation with you at random when you weren't on the road. Or was it everyday? He honestly couldn't remember. The last memorable conversation he'd had had begun with a foot connecting with his wrist. The poor girl had been horrendously absent-minded. Mal unconsciously rotated his left wrist at the memory. No harm had been done, and he'd gotten to see a fair number of dandelions. But that had been one of the few days of the week he'd set aside for not looking into employment and other matters.

"After all, it takes equipment to make wine, even dandelion wine."

It was easy to understand how one wouldn't have expected such an honest answer to such simple pleasantry. You know how conversations tended to go- hello, how are you, I'm fine thanks, okay bye, etcetera. Glad to have someone accept her invitation for conversation, Amber was sure to listen intently as the man spoke. "That's quite the list," she commented, with genuine interest.

Amber almost thought she caught him in another memory, but then he added something, to which she gave a sturdy nod. "Ah so that's what you're planning to do." She paused for a second, and then inquired, "What gave you this idea?" Opening a vineyard or a winery was a rather ambitious venture; she figured he probably had some experience in the area, or at least had something provoke him to head down that path. Hey at least he knows what he wants to do, she thought, resisting the urge to chuckle at her own lack of direction. You can't exactly make a living out of writing songs, now can you...

"That's quite the list."

"I suppose. I keep getting sidetracked though, so if I don't keep saying it, I doubt any of it is going to get done."

Yes, you spend two whole years searching for this place, and then you get lost in your head trying to get things done. You came here for a reason, Mal. Focus on it! The soil samples just outside town weren't perfect, there was a promising bit out in Buttercup Meadows though, remember? You need to go back and check the area a bit more.

"And make sure it doesn't border any of the farms," Mal muttered to himself.

"What gave you this idea?"

"Dandelion wine?"

Probably the dandelion wine. Asking me what gave me the idea I needed to get a job would be silly. I need money. Yes, and that's why I need a job. Which I need to get the equipment I need to make the dandelion wine. That's THE PLAN. Maybe I should tattoo it on the inside of my eyelids. Then again, that would hurt.

Mal reached up and pulled his ponytail out from his shirt's collar. It had gotten stuck in it again. He'd be a bit happier when it was longer. Then maybe it wouldn't keep getting caught back there. The tugging when it got caught between his shirt and back was vaguely annoying.

Amber giggled very lightly; she wasn't one for giggling, but she was in a slightly odd mood, the kind of hyper that came with lack of brain activity (this was not for a lack of stimulating thought, but rather a lack of work. Maybe she needed to crack open a math book for kicks). The man in front of her, who was still standing, was getting more lost in thought every second while they spoke. She didn't mind in the slightest; in fact it was a bit entertaining. Maybe she could even help him organize his thoughts a bit, if that was possible.

"Yep, dandelion wine," she said, "I don't think I've ever had such a thing. Sounds like a pretty intuitive idea, though."

"Truth be told, I haven't had it either. But I've read books on different wines and how to prepare them and such. There are always plenty of dandelions everywhere. Everything I've read says it makes a good summer wine, when chilled. Something to sip in the afternoon."

Mal heard the giggle and arched an eyebrow briefly, as if questioning what he had done that was funny. He dismissed it from his mind a moment later. It was a real pity he couldn't do that with the other things that kept distracting him from getting things done. It wasn't so much that Mal was particularly scatter-brained, but rather that he wasn't used to having to arrange things as quickly as it was now apparent that he'd need to. Over the two years he'd spent looking for Feather Valley, he'd stopped to do little work. He'd spent his days walking or reading. Whatever suited his fancy at the time. Now everything was rush rush rush in his mind.

I really need to take a step back at some point and calm down. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I can take my time. But...everything is so very close!

"Mind you, even if I get everything together, it wouldn't even be ready until fall. It takes a while to make wines, you see."

"Truth be told, I haven't had it either. But I've read books on different wines and how to prepare them and such. There are always plenty of dandelions everywhere. Everything I've read says it makes a good summer wine, when chilled. Something to sip in the afternoon."

Amber listened well throughout his explanation, nodding twice at appropriate moments. It sounded like something you could make and sell here for sure; feather valley was good for vineyards, and despite the relatively small size of the town, it did well with exports. Her knowledge was not extensive, but with the amount of farms around the area it was clear to all that business was good.

"Sounds good," she said, smiling warmly for lack of a better response. He spoke again, and what he said sparked her own thoughts, having been contemplating jobs earlier. "Indeed is does, but the sooner you get started the better, no?" He would need the means to get started though, and it was hard to tell how long it would take to build up a substantial sum. "So you need to look for temporary work, then? I'm in the same boat...only difference is I don't have a long-term plan! I'm a floater," she said, chuckling. "Maybe I should start getting my shit together," she added, still light-hearted.

"Indeed is does, but the sooner you get started the better, no?"

Which brings us back to the finding a job part of the plan, or the list.

"So you need to look for temporary work, then? I'm in the same boat...only difference is I don't have a long-term plan! I'm a floater."

Mal looked at the young woman again. She looked fairly young, and what she'd said seemed to imply the same thing. Mal hadn't had much of a plan when he was younger. Well, no, he had, hadn't he? Wine. There had always been wine in his life since he'd been young. Red wines, white wines, rose wines, and even the occasional taste of a cheap champagne. He'd learned how to properly appreciate a wine before his thirteenth birthday. Somewhere around his sixteenth birthday he'd decided he was going to own a vineyard someday and that, as they say, had been that. Of course, he hadn't really had any idea of how he was going to get one.

You still don't.

"Maybe I should start getting my shit together.

"Maybe a little?" Mal said hesitantly, commenting on a random person's life seemed a bit rude, "Then again, I'm one to talk, eh? All plan, no execution."

She smiled genuinely, appreciating the tentative tone the man had used; it hadn't been necessary, but was certainly polite. Amber was one to exaggerate; she really wasn't all that confused about her life. She had her high school diploma, she had work experience, and she was a natural performer; she had already thought out her options, and decided she needed inspiration. That's why she came to this town in the first place- she was bored of city life and wanted a change. The only thing she really needed to worry about was immediate funds, which she was running out of. But how hard was that to deal with? A waitressing job, a cashier, anything- all she needed was to make a few bucks once in a while. It was true, she was still so very young; she had time, and this was something she knew and was thankful for.

"I'm sure you just need to set your plan in stone- stop thinking and start doing, eh?" she said. "You seem perfectly qualified to me." She smiled lightly again, and casually extended a hand, "My name's Amber Damant, by the way."

"I'm sure you just need to set your plan in stone- stop thinking and start doing, eh?"

That's what I'm trying to do. There's just so much to do, and it seems I keep thinking of more things to add to it..

"Yeah, I'm working on that part," Mal said with a chuckle.

And that he had been. Settling on today to learn his way around Feather Valley had been the first step in cementing the plan. Finding a job or a partner in wine had come later. As long as he was doing something productive with his time the day was not being wasted. There was more than enough money in his bank account to stay at the inn for a while, but at the same time there was food to think about. And on top of it, the elusive materials needed to make his still hypothetical dandelion wine. If he managed to make it though, that would be his first large step in his quest to become a proper vintner.

It'll be a special sort of magic if I manage to see the stuff fall clear. Though not nearly as special as grape vines 'crying' in spring.

"My name's Amber Damant, by the way.

"James Malory, pleased to meet you Amber," Mal said as he took the offered hand and shook it briefly.