As the sun peeks over the horizon, a scent of fog and dew begin to stir among the tall blades of grass. A pile of large acorns haphazardly stacked outside the teahouse entrance comes alive as soon as the first beams of light hit. The rugged, delicate door flings open and a figure tiredly stumbles out on to the large stepping stones just outside. The uniforms dull fabric resembles the moss and rotting wood surrounding the house. Large porcelain gauntlets shine with ornate incantations, continuing up one arm and the leg as intricate tattoos. Basil doesn’t seem to care about the bugs waking up all around the ancient oak, tonight is the Moonlight market and there are preparations to be made. A magpie soars past and a scent of tea starts spreading through the leaves.
Clouds enshroud the sky and a slight drizzle slowly replaces the bright sky, company wasn’t expected on a day of preparations like these, yet welcomed.
Behind the large glasses, drowsy eyes peer out with a hypnotic calm. The merchant off