"Based on what dad'st old me and the pictures I saw at grandma's house before, that's exactly what he was. His nose was like a beak to me in the pictures- long, kinda like a gull or a duck, maybe even a goose, though geese are evil in my opinion. Dad loved him dearly- they used to be roommates when he was little. So, he had lots of stories to tell me. He was as nice as they come. I'm jealous of dad since I didn't get to meet 'im... But it does help explain my dad a little, I guess. One of his role models, after all." With a childish laughter, the girl felt perfectly fine sharing all this- something that showed likely naivete in reality, but also her innate trust in this woman, though only barely knowing her. Harveste was a lover of stories, and whether it was personal or fiction, she was glad to share what she could with those who would listen. Having them join in, imagining things to boot from her words- that definitely aided her mind. Her index finger tapped her chin as she listened to the woman's story next- the story of kindness and concern about the fact it was so highly regarded. "It's true that kindness should be natural, but... Don't you feel like there are times where you're just so down, someone doing something nice- even if it's just giving you a smile- really makes your day? Even if you're normally happy, you're gonna have bad days too. It's part of life. Like the farmer... I've met the one that owns that plot once before. He has days where he smiles so big I think I'll be blinded, but other times, like today... He gets a bad deal from the world and finds that he needs the kindness of others more than usual. Instead of thinking the world's bad... Isn't it better to just think the people that help others are good for helping when life pulls a fast one?" Finding herself embarrassed as she blabbered out of control with a lecture her own father would give, the girl covered her lips with her hand she'd been tapping with, trying to stop herself from speaking too much more about the subject. She'd even mentioned the farmer- the reason they were in this situation, trying to find an answer for him. How had she managed to blindly continue her tirade when she'd even brought it up? The redness of her cheeks happily held when she tried to let off a nervous laugh, looking around the fields once more. Sniffing the corn, she frowned lightly. Even if she pressed it, it felt almost artificial to her- the lack of a bend, the crispness of the leaves. "Is it actually corn at all? It's more tightly bound than any I've ever seen... Like a GMO, but less tasty. And... The color is too perfect to me. Isn't it unusually dynamic? Like it's lacking texture... Or gradient..." She felt strange as she spoke. She didn't actually know that much about corn- hell, she barely ate it anymore, at least on it's own. "I know it's supposed to be tall, but it just feels strange to me. 'Perfect' shouldn't be used for food. As much as we can want it...I thought perfect was a myth, too..."
Though she was thoroughly enjoying their discussion on morality, all thought of it fled as she focused on Harveste's words. They would have to continue discussing human acts of kindness at a later date. "Perfect?" the woman echoed, moving up beside the Faerin to rub the leaves between her fingers. She was not entirely sure what Harveste meant, at first, but she began to figure it out quickly. There truly was something wrong with the corn. Or, more accurately, nothing wrong. And that was the problem. "It feels almost plastic," Mags confirmed. And the color truly was too consistent, with very little variation. The green was vivid, and really, the color that Magdalyn associated with corn. Which only added to her concern. "Yeah," she agreed with a small nod, "this isn't right." A rustle nearby snagged her attention. She glanced up, expecting to see another handful of people navigating the labyrinth. Instead, Mags found a middle-aged man in dirtied overalls, emerging from the corn down the path. Her blue eyes flashed with first recognition, and then an idea. She patted Harveste's shoulder in a quick "hold on" gesture, then strode toward the man. "Sir," she called, motioning for him. When he turned, she beamed at him. Pumping her voice with as much sweet honey as possible, she batted her eyes, and asked, "Do you know where I would find the owner of this land?" At the question, the stranger grinned back. "W'ull, that would be me," he answered. Magdalyn let her eyes widen. "Oh! Wonderful! I just had to ask how it is that your corn is so perfect. I must have your secret! It's like magic!" He was clearly flattered by the compliment, and without thinking, he reached to stroke the corn's long leaves. At her last sentence, however, the smile melted away. "Ain't no magic," he growled, suddenly scowling toward her. His hand tightened on the leaf, and it scrunched beneath the force. "Just a figure of speech!" Mags assured him, though there was a devilish look in her eyes as she pushed him just a bit further. "But if it is magic, please share! I would love to have corn like this." Without another word, the farmer turned on his heel, and stomped back into his corn. Victoriously, Magdalyn turned back to face Harveste. "Well now," she drawled.
Magdalyn had agreed with her, which helped her since some things about corn she just didn't know. For example, what did it normally smell like? She could only use other fields in this world as reference... And so far she couldn't quite find a major difference. At least she was right on the color and texture? When the woman suddenly told her to stay and ran ahead, the Faerin merely continued to study the corn for a moment. She wanted to find something, anything, in it's scent- something that could tell her more. Shouldn't a naturamancer know more about plants like this? Soon enough, finding her study in vain, Magdalyn returned to her. She had paid enough attention to know that something about the man not far away felt off, particularly based on Mag's talk with him. "Something about that person... Not just what he said or how he acted, which was clearly suspect... But... Did you feel a bit tingly talking to him? Or am I just sniffing corn too much?" She took some steps away from the corn to make sure she was more centralized in the great field of maize, on the road rather than standing against the ticklish leaves too beautiful for her mind to process. "I've never smelled corn before really, so... I'm not sure if this is right. But it kinda tickles my nose. Think it's related to whatever weird magic he used? Or fertilizer. Could be magical fertilizer. At this point, I have no clue what to think... Do you?" Now that she thought about it, what was the reason Magdalyn had been so adamant about talking to the man alone in the first place? And what was it she was looking for, acting like she was only curious how to grow the corn for herself, not warning the stranger about the possible risk his crop was in? Wait, is this corn the cause...?
"Tingly?" Magdalyn paused, considering Harveste's question for a moment. Then, she frowned and shook her head. "No, I didn't really feel anything I would describe as tingly." Perhaps it was the faerin's heightened senses that led to such an observation. Or, Mags realized, perhaps it was just a different way of describing the unease. "Actually," she began again, "I get get the sense that he was lying to me. That he was hiding something. He got really defensive when I mentioned magic, and he actually stormed off, which is never not suspicious." She did not pause to correct her double negative, already on a roll as her mind worked. "So yeah, I guess that made me feel tingly." As Harveste mentioned the smell of the corn, Magdalyn paused to breathe deeply herself. "I don't really smell much," she confessed. "But maybe you can smell something I can't, because you're not human?" It was only a guess, but it made sense that the different races would have different strengths, or different abilities. "Magic fertilizer is actually a pretty good guess! Maybe we should talk to the other farmer, whose crops aren't growing? Maybe he'll have something to say about magic fertilizer." Together, the pair exited the labyrinth, passing the time with small talk and comfortable, companionable silence. When they reached the original farmer's land, Mags cast Harveste a sideways glance. "Want to take this one?" she asked the girl. Maybe just ask if he knows anything about other farmers using magic in their planting?" She paused, then added, "He may laugh us off the property, but it's worth a shot."
At first, she frowned when her attempt to describe her discomfort went a bit over the woman's head- but to be honest, it wasn't that shocking. Harveste was better with writing words than actually saying them. Lethologica was a close friend of her's, and generally speaking wasn't an ally. Luckily, before she could try to bubble up explaining even worse than she had, Magdalyn seemed to catch on to what she meant. Thus, the frown quickly swirled into a small, relieved smile. As they returned to the issue at hand, of course, that wouldn't last for long. It seemed neither of the two trusted the farmer with the glorious crops- and Harveste's note of the smell was apparently unusually keen. "It might be since I'm not used to being able to smell things, but I notice the differences more easily as I get used to it. It could just be a hunch playing tricks on me, too, though. Many writers have fairly keen imaginations that include senses we have." She laughed, knowing her best example was often the most embarrassing- and as such, she'd avoid speaking it at all cost. Instead, she pondered over their next action, and joined Magdalyn when she lead them back to the original farm. After being asked if she'd like the honors, the girl nodded with a smile and ran up to the one they were helping. "Say, mister? I'm wondering... What kind of fertilizer do you use? Is it homemade? Magic?" The man seemed to laugh, but didn't laugh to the point he would shoo them away. The two girls did mean well, after all- they'd agreed to help him, and though the question was strange, surely there was a reason behind it. "Magic fertilizer? I dun know a thing about that, kiddo! I use fresh compost I make myself like any other fellow growing corn would do. It's simple stuff, I tell ya. What's so magical about it?" Harveste eyed the bags of mulch she could see from the corner of her eye- it certainly did look fairly average at best. There was nothing all that intriguing about it, though she might find the ingredients curious. "See... There's one farm that's really, insanely healthy. And something about it just seems... Really, really unnatural..." Realizing she couldn't quite get her idea or reasoning across with words, she turned to glance towards Magdalyn, waving her over. "Mag got to talk to the farmer with the unusually 'perfect' corn. He seemed fishy... Mag, what do you think? I can't really explain it well."
The NPC farmer removed his hat, and scratched at it in a way that was so perfectly typical of an NPC farmer. Mags felt another thrill at the realism put into the game, but refused to let it show on her face. This was an important matter, and if she grinned at the man now, it would only confuse him further. Besides, she could feel Harveste growing frustrated by her side, and she knew that an outward display of happiness would certainly not help matters. So she held her hands out, palms up, in the universal display of confusion. "It is tough to explain," she confirmed, mostly as a reassurance to her new friend. She could not simply tell the man that they were both players, on a quest, and they had to solve this problem to unlock some rewards. Not only would it be heartless to use the man that way, it would undoubtedly upset him - NPCs did not take well to being called mere constructs of data. "We spoke with a man who had exceptional corn," she explained, finally. "Immaculate corn. Completely flawless." She loosed a small shrug, and added, "You and I both know that farming does not work that way." The farmer nodded along, slowly. Even if he did not understand their entire meaning, that was something they could agree with. "No," he agreed, "you will always have some degree of variance between your plants." Mags' amber eyes lit. "Exactly! But this man doesn't. And when we asked him about it, he grew very angry, and stormed off. Pretty odd behavior, stomping away from a fellow farmer." The NPC nodded again, and she continued. "So you cannot think of anything that might explain such perfect crops?" The man's leathery face contorted in thought, his brows knitting together. Then he gaped. "Oh, well, come to think of it, we did have a man come by the place, about six months ago. It was so ridiculous, I nearly forgot all about it. He claimed he could sell us some mystical seed, or somethin' like that. I don't right remember - I blocked it out, it was so peculiar."
