The sun shines bright but it shyly hides itself behind clouds. There are sun spots on the foliage-littered soil from the holes in the canopy of leaves and branches overhead. Tiny miniscule particles of dust dance within the sun beams. The wind blows a cool breeze. The leaves rustle, the branches dance and the sun beams flicker in and out so that the sunspots shift from one place to another.

The sound of the magical spring in the forest - its extraordinary healing water steadily flowing - combines beautifully with the rustling of the branches and leaves of both magix and non-magix trees and bushes, and the rich natural symphony of the forest is completed by the melodies of different bird-songs of both magix and non-magix feathered friends.

The day is warm and perfect and bright and the forest is alive. Cotton breathes in everything natural and magical and exhales with happiness.

It flaps its wings lazily, contently flying around the forest. It stops to perch at branches, pecking and snacking at seeds and buds and the little crawling invertebrates. Sometimes it would join in the euphony of natural sounds, singing its little heart out.

Cotton went out right after Rosie ate breakfast. The familiar waited for its mistress to be done munching on plain toast and eventually just plain slices of bread. She would spread jam over it, here and there, but she ate two whole pieces of toast and then just ate another plain slice. It was quite the entertaining and endearing sight. Cotton figured that its mistress just got tired of having to put the jam and couldn’t wait to stuff her face.

She probably just wanted to eat, the familiar thought, snickering to itself.

It watched its mistress compress the last plain slice into a little ball, bite into in, then kind of flap her arms in happiness. She also tore off little pieces of bread for Cotton which it gratefully received and swallowed.

Rosie had weird eating habits and an equally weird way of loving food. Cotton enjoyed watching her eat simply because of the pleasure of seeing joy wash over her whole face. But as much as it loved watching and being fed by Rosie, it preferred its natural diet of worms and pits and nuts and sprouts.

Or, if Cotton was in its true astral form, it fed on the magical energy coming off of ley lines or off of natural magical resources like magical springs or mines - places that naturally produced and renewed its magical energy so as long as Cotton was nearby one, it would be good for life and never starve.

Hence, why the familiar loved flying around by itself in the magical forest behind the greenhouse.

Cotton recalls a time, years ago, when it snacked on nothing but magical crystals because it still couldn’t get used to eating bird food. The familiar snickered. Lola - the old lady who originally owned the greenhouse and who took them in - would always scold it for eating the runic energy off the crystals and rendering it as useless as any rock.

Now it’s glad that it has acclimated to whatever real birds eat because it didn’t want to burden Rosie with having to collect new magical crystals to feed it every week.

The song of the forest continues and the shadows thin out. The sun finally musters the courage to peek out from behind clouds. Cotton looks up spreads its wings out, catching as much warmth and sunlight as it can. It decides that it should go back to its mistress and her patient. It might be early in the day and there’s no reason to worry about any danger until nightfall, but it would make it feel better if it was always be close by its witch and master.

Rosie was left alone with her sleeping patient when Cotton went out to scavenge for food. The seer, Jisoo, left last night and both Cotton and Rosie were surprised when Jennie suddenly declared that she’s coming with. Everyone, including Jisoo, looked at the shapeshifter like she’d just grown a gargoyle’s head. Jennie blushed and looked down and reasoned that the seer would be travelling at night, and that while air travel wouldn’t be as dangerous as land travel, it was better that someone who can also fight and watch her back was there with her.

Jisoo was beyond grateful to Jennie and Rosie had no qualms about it. Cotton found it odd how the usually untrusting shapeshifter who was overly protective of Rosie and the shop and has never left it for 5 months was suddenly willing to go on a trip to protect a stranger.

Cotton has its guesses as to why there was a sudden change in the shapeshifter’s behavior. The familiar may not be human but it isn’t naive to human emotions. It’s spent two decades living amongst humans and observing them. But Cotton decides to wait and see future developments before saying anything.

Since Rosie is alone, Cotton decides to turn around and fly back to the house. When the familiar swoops safely into the barrier with it recognizing its magical energy, it hears soft humming coming from inside the greenhouse.

It flies in and finds Rosie hunched over a leather notebook with a pencil in hand busily flying over the page, the graphite leaving light lines and heavy and dark shadows and light accents. The healer is so concentrated on her sketch that she doesn’t realize Cotton is back until the rosefinch is flying so close to her face that a few strands of her hair were blown away.

Rosie looks up at the familiar in surprise. Cotton chirps in greeting. It gets a warm smile in return.

“Welcome back, Cotton.”

“Hello, Miss Rosie. You seem quite busy today.”

Rosie bows her head back down, going back to sketching. Cotton flies away to get a better look at what its mistress is working on. It realizes she’s sketching a magical Bracken Fern. The familiar watches the healer’s hands trace and darken the outlines of the little fibrous roots of the healing plant then moving onto its thin stem and long wide leaves, detailing her sketch further.

Rosie looked up at the real life plant in a pot in front of her. The one in her sketch looked exactly like it’s real life counterpart - as if the plant was magically converted from 3D to 2D and then placed on paper.

“Is that another one for your journals?” Cotton asks, wonder and awe in its voice.

“Yes,” Rosie looks up at her familiar with a smile. “The sun was shining so beautifully. It felt like the perfect day to sketch and continue my little project.” The healer explains.

The familiar feels a breeze pass by and a warmth spreads in its feather-covered chest. It closes its eyes and inhales and just feels. When it opens them, it sees that its mistress also had her hand halted in mid air with her eyes closed. The healer inhales deep and exhales slowly. She then turns to the rosefinch with a warm knowing smile.

Cotton understands what its mistress just communicated to it silently - Lola is letting them both know that she is here and she is watching over them.

See, Rosie inherited this shop, greenhouse and the love for rare magical plants from an eccentric old lady who took her and Cotton in when they both had nowhere else to go and had just lost everything. Lola was a plump and round little old witch who stood at four feet, ten inches tall. She had brown skin, small eyes, a round nose; her eyes crinkled and her crow’s feet deepened every time she smiled her signature warm smile. Her hair was white as snow, and she was soft as a pillow when anyone hugged her. She jiggled everywhere when she laughed and she never lacked warmth nor love nor light.

For a seven year old who had just lost everything, who was confused and scared and had no one left but her rosefinch familiar, Lola was a gift from the angels. She couldn’t have been brought to the old witch by anyone else but the good spirits.

But Lola passed away three years ago and it’s just been Rosie and Cotton. Since then, Rosie decided to create a little compilation of all the rare plants Lola left her and all the new ones she would discover in a journal. She would also list down all the uses and spells for each one, both as a way to honor her memory and as a resource for other healers in the future.

Rosie still gets sad thinking about the old witch. But sometimes, at night, when the shadows are harsh, Rosie swears that she can feel Lola guarding over her wherever she is, and she just smiles.

She’s lost so many people at such a young age. She instinctively looks over at her sleeping patient, runs her eyes over the messy blonde hair and the back turned to her. Something tells her that the seer and half-demon that barged into her home two days ago was as much brought to her by fate as Lola was.

The healer’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a groan coming from across her, over at the other side of the greenhouse where her patient lay on the bed from the hut. Rosie and Cotton decided it was better to move the sleeping half-demon into the greenhouse because sunlight and lots of clean air would be good for her, and also so both of them wouldn’t have to go back and forth from the greenhouse to the hut during the day. Being a witch definitely made it easy for Rosie as she just used the same trick she and Jennie did when they took two people and a griffin to the hut - a simple  levitation spell and magic threads.

Rosie gets up from her spot and goes over to the half-demon to check on her. Cotton flies right behind her.

Lisa's eyes open slowly as she moves from lying on her side to lie on her back. Rosie immediately checks her patient’s half-lidded eyes and sees them glazed over. The healer grabs a digital thermometer on the side table, sanitizes its metal end with magical energy and pops it between her patient's parted lips and teeth. There’s always a danger of a fever breaking out as a sign of infection or a fever as a reaction to the transfusion of magical energy. The half-demon’s body seemed to be reacting well to the elixirs and spells, but it’s always better to be sure.

Out of instinct, Rosie starts humming the random tune she has in her head once again, as she waits for the thermometer to do its work.

Lisa’s eyes start to clear and the half-demon blinks - once, then twice. Rosie is surprised. The half-demon isn't supposed to be conscious for another day at least from the procedure she just went through.

Lisa groans again as she slowly comes to. The smell of earth and plants hit her and she wonders where she is.

Was she awake? Was she dreaming? Was she dead?

Does the afterlife smell like greenery and a little bit of fertilizer?

She sees light at first, then little fuzzy colored lights. The half-demon then starts making out little light orbs of lots of different shades of green mixed with white around her. Her vision looked like a bokeh stock photo on google. At the back of her mind, Lisa suddenly thinks of the last time she went on a nice photo walk. Wait, why is she thinking of photography right now? Ah, right, there’s that new Leica model that she wants....

Wait, where is she again? Is she even alive?

Well, she should definitely go on a photo walk again sometime, maybe bring Jisoo as a model or something, after she finds out where she is or if she’s still alive.

Suddenly, the lights are blocked by something. A big shadow? A thumb?

The thermometer beeps. Rosie removes it from the half-demon's mouth. The black digital numbers say 37.9° - higher than normal for non-magix but a lower than normal temperature for a half-demon with an affinity for fire magic - still good, could be better, but safe enough.

Lisa blinks her eyes clear. Once. Twice. The shadow slowly takes form and the thumb becomes a woman with blonde hair. A pretty woman. She sees lips first, plump and heart shaped, the lower lip thick and puckered, then a finely sculpted nose, and eyes that hold so much softness and warmth, Lisa wonders if they hold all the good things in the world.

A very, very pretty woman. I should ask this one to model for me.

Lisa exhales a breath.

“Prreettyyy,” she says, voice laced with sleep and too much honesty, sounding completely drunk. “An aanngeel.”

Rosie is taken aback, literally and figuratively.

“Wh-what?”

The healer’s heart skips a beat. The corners of Lisa's lips quirk up and she speaks slowly, as if still dazed. She drawls her words, tongue dragging vowels along her lips.

“Youu'rrre sooo preeettyy.”

Cotton almost falls from the air in surprise. The familiar laughs. Rosie blushes and swats at it.

Lisa closes her eyes again, small smile still on her lips.

“Prettiest… girrrrl…” the half-demon's eyes close and her voice fades.

The healer’s heart is now drumming hard against her chest. She tries to calm it by breathing in and out in measured breaths.

Lisa is still. Rosie pokes her arm. The half-demon doesn’t react. The patient falls asleep once again. Rosie clears .

“She must be high from the elixirs.”

Cotton bursts out laughing.

“No, mistress, I think she has a crush on you.”

The healer's face turns beet red and she covers it with her hands. She groans.

“Ugh, Cotton!”

Cotton, in its high pitched voice, laughs louder this time.

Rosie goes back to her spot on her table, deciding to continue her work. Without looking at the familiar she explains the logical reason for the half-demon's statement.

“She's just high. Let's leave her to rest now.”

Cotton snickers.

“Okay, Miss Rosie.”

And the familiar makes no further comment. Rosie exhales another slow breath, closing her eyes, trying to shake off how flustered the comment made her feel.

But the compliment stays at the back of her mind. She steals glances towards the sleeping half-demon. Cotton pretends not to see it, but it does and it takes note.

Cotton has lived with Rosie and protected the healer all her life. It notices everything.

Half an hour passes. The sun moves closer to high noon. The clouds still shield its rays, keeping the day fair. The breeze blows coolly, the plants in the greenhouse dance with their leaves rustling. Rosie finishes detailing her drawing of the magical Bracken Fern. She holds it up for Cotton to see and the familiar chirps in approval.

“Great work once again, Mistress!”

Rosie gives her work another look and beams with pride. The healer is a perfectionist through and through and this one definitely deserves her very own stamp of approval. It might just be one of her best works yet.

Lisa shifts in the bed again making the thin wooden frame creak. Rosie looks up to see if her patient is waking up again. Cotton flies over to the half-demon immediately and hovers over the patient.

Lisa opens her eyes slowly again. She feels dazed, as if her mind is blanketed by a thin translucent film, keeping her from being fully conscious and fully functional. She sees a pink fuzzy ball in front of her and she reaches out to touch it.

Cotton flies away to dodge the patient's clumsy hand.

“Woah!” It exclaims in surprise.

Lisa's arm falls back heavily on the bed. Rosie is a little alarmed and gets up from her spot to check on what's happening between her familiar and her patient. Cotton flies in closer to get a better look at Lisa's pupils.

The blonde's eyes are glassy and unfocused with her pupils a little dilated.

Then Lisa starts quietly and slowly chuckling. Rosie raises an eyebrow in confusion. This is the first time any patient of hers has exhibited this kind of behavior. Usually, her patients just sleep a lot to recover after she does energy transfusion then wakes up groggy and grumpy.

Or at least, Jennie did when Jennie was her patient.

“Piiiink.” Lisa drawls, then giggles again. “Cotton candyyy, fuzzzzzyyy.”

Cotton looks at Rosie and then laughs. Rosie joins in too. Lisa looks at both the healer and the familiar while a stupid dopey smile spreads on her face. She joins in the laughter, too.

Oh gosh, Rosie thinks, she really is high.

“Flying cotton candy.” Lisa says in a dreamy voice. She reaches out for Cotton again and the familiar easily avoids her hand. Lisa frowns, suddenly looking very upset.

“I waaaant cotton candyyyy.”

Rosie and Cotton share a look before the healer turns to Lisa and starts running gentle fingers through her patient's blonde hair. Lisa instinctively closes her eyes and sighs happily.

“Lisa,” Rosie tries using the half-demon's name. She feels something in her chest flutter, hearing the half-demon’s name come out of her own lips. She subconsciously puts a hand over her chest, where her heart is.

What is up with her today?

“Hmm?” Lisa, still high, responds. There's a small content smile on the patient's lips once again.

“We're gonna get you cotton candy when you wake up and you're all better, okay?” Rosie promises, for some reason.

Wait, why did I say that?

“Mhmmm.” Lisa tries to do a slight nod but her consciousness is slipping, the promise of sweets making her feel infinitely better.

“Okay, pretty…. Whatever… you… say…”

The blush creeps up the healer's neck to her cheeks and she looks down, hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair. Cotton makes no comment this time, holding its laughter and teasing back. The familiar however, is sure that it caught its mistress fighting to keep down a smile that was threatening to explode on her face.

Yep, one of Miss Rosie's weaknesses is definitely compliments.

Rosie sees Cotton looking at her silently with its head tilted.

“What?” Rosie asks, knowing full well what Cotton’s look means. She’s known her familiar all her life and she knows what it’s thinking right now.

Cotton considers what it should say, ultimately deciding, oh well, since she asked…

“You're blushing.”

Rosie's eyes widen and her hands immediately cover and cup one of her cheeks, each.

“No, I'm not.” The healer denies.

“You're smiling.”

Rosie presses her lips together, forcing them into a small straight line and shakes her head violently, then expressing dissent with shut.

“Nmm mmm nnnt.”

Way to act like an adult, Rosie, the healer berates herself.

Cotton just laughs louder, deciding to let up on its poor mistress.

“Okay, Miss Rosie. Whatever you say”

The familiar flies off and settles itself in its little nest on Rosie's desk.

Something tells Rosie that Cotton was being sarcastic but since her familiar seems to be dropping the topic, she decides it's best for her to do the same. She goes back to her desk but halfway there she feels her stomach rumbling. She puts a hand on it and looks up through the greenhouse's glass roof to the sky.

It's high noon and time for lunch. Rosie decides to fix herself something quick.

“Hey, Cotton, I'll just make myself some lunch, okay?”

Cotton's eyes are closed and its halfway to dreamland in its little nest but it answers its mistress, still.

“Okay, Miss Rosie. I'll just… nap.”

Cotton ends the statement with a yawn. Familiars don’t really need to sleep and they don’t really yawn. All they need to do to stay alive is to be attached to a master and feed on pure magical energy, but over the years Cotton has picked up a few human and bird habits and that sleeping is a good way of passing time.

Cotton is asleep in no time.

The healer smiles at her sleeping familiar. She looks over her patient once more before leaving the greenhouse and padding off into the shop and main house's kitchen.

Time for lunch!

Finally, the healer thinks. Food!