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Lavender Fire Song
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The light from the inn shines brightly through the tunnel you've burned. At the moment it doesn't seem like they're keen on growing back behind you, so you press on. You decide to strike up a conversation to keep the mood light.
"So, uh, how long have you been out here for anyway?"
"Oh, a-a few years," she says, "I took over when my grampa passed."
"Family business, that's cool. Giant thorny vines aside, how's it going for you?"
She chuckles. "It's fine I suppose. It's a lot quieter than I'm used to out here. But the guests keep it exciting."
"You work all by yourself?"
"Mostly, yeah. Sometimes I'll hire some help when I can get it, but it's usually temporary. A lot of people are grateful for the inn, but most folks aren't willing to live out here in the woods," her expression sours a little, "I know I wouldn't have chosen this as my new home. Still, I'm happy I'm able to provide travelers a place of safety."
You continue on, pushing vines aside, burning them where you can, all the while keeping a firm grip on Chester's hand. Or maybe she's the one holding you tight.
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