“What did the note tell you to do?” She cleared her throat and stammered out, “To kneel here, facing away from the door.” I waited, but no mor... was coming. “And?” I whispered in her ear, my breath on the nape of her neck. “And…” she stammered as my lips found her neck gently, but continued. “And not to turn around.” I released my grip and dropped my hands to her shoulders, rubbing them with the palms of my hands. “So why did you just turn around?” I asked her. Again, there was no response. I. Not even something for every Guardian.“Far from it. I’d suggest we send a group of twenty, all fully armed and very cautious.”“Would you go with them?”“Maybe, but I’d stay out of sight - just close by making sure that nobody gets lost.”Things worked out just as planned. The group that had entered the valley were indeed Guardians and they were very talented when it came to moving in the forest without getting noticed. That just didn’t help them in this case, and the group of five was soon. "If you can find some glasses, would you like to open that bottle?" She asked, and I could swear there was a gleam in her eye. I told her yes, and she slid into the bedroom, lightly closing the door behind her.I quickly took stock of her small cottage, trying to shake the stunned feeling from my head. It was small, but cozy, with the mismatched furniture of college students filling the living room. A kitchen with a dinette was on the left, and to the right were two doors. I assumed that her. Cutting hay with the scythe was much slower than she expected, and she forgot to pile it to dry. Cutting the wheat with the sickle, she knocked more grain from the stalks than she left on them, and her misshapen and sloppy shocks blew over in the gentle breeze. In the evening, the cow refused to move home from the pasture, and then as it neared the barn, it was spooked by the chickens running amok. Cleaning the barn of soiled straw was hot, stinky, and the dirty straw blew in her face. .