CONGLOMERATE

    As soon as the man began to speak, Winnie couldn’t help but take note of the his thick country accent. While it wasn’t completely out of place in a town like this, it was still a far cry from the local vernacular. Of course, Winnie didn’t need to hear his voice to tell that he wasn’t from Pelican Town. The rural community had a rather small population, and she had a feeling she’d recognize someone like him. Even disregarding his accent, he also had a very distinct way of speaking– slow and steady, buttery even, with a tone that made her think of iced tea and cornbread and all things southern. Strangely enough, the way he spoke brought back memories of a character from a saturday morning cartoon she used to watch as a kid.

    As he explained his reasoning, Winnie would tilt her head slightly to the side.

“ A farmhand– Oh! Oh yes, that’s right. So you’re here about my ad? ” honestly, she didn’t expect anyone to even see it, much less actually apply. She’d put that out a little over a week ago, and in the midst of her constant busywork, it had completely slipped her mind.

    She looked on as he produced the– admittedly now quite wrinkled– flyer from his pocket, which she would then briefly take from him in order to read. Yep, this was most certainly hers. Best ad five gold can buy.

“ Farmhand wanted… Flexibility and curiosity is a plus… No experience– no experience necessary?! “ She didn’t remember writing that! Darn you, Sam…

    Handing the paper back to him, Winnie looked up at tall figure with a new wariness. “ I, uh… I do hope you have at least some experience. ”

    She still felt woefully unprepared for a job interview, especially since she was supposed to be doing the interviewing. It sure would have helped if he’d at least given her a call beforehand… But hey, beggars can’t be choosers, can they? And it wouldn’t be fair for him to have come all this way for nothing.

“ Ah– woah there! ” she quickly put her hands up, still smiling despite being evidently flustered by his eagerness. Hey, at least he was prepared. She had to hand him that. “ Loving that energy, hold onto it. But before we can think about any of that, I need to know who I’m workin’ with. I mean, no offense, but you didn’t even give me your name yet. ”

    Call it a hunch, but something gave Winnie the impression that this was somewhat unfamiliar territory for the man. He seemed a bit out of his element– while also somehow very much in his element. She could understand that.

“ Name’s Winnie Foster. As the sign out front suggests, ” she’d gesture to a large painted sign hanging above the gate, which had ‘FOSTER’S FARM’ painted in bold, bright cursive. “ This is my farm. And you are…? ”

      With a sense of confidence, Clint dipped his head down to validate that yes he was in fact here for just that. He knew, or more so thought, if he pushed his nerves way down to the ground and hid it as best he could and replace these feelings with a mighty dose of self-assurance, that just then maybe his chances of working here would be raised a good amount. I mean...who wants some nervous ninny to be hired onto their company when they could have someone who shined with certainty. 

      As the woman read the flyer out loud, Clint stood there feeling that of someone who was having a report card read back to them. What was he supposed to do--just continue to nod and agree with the clear statements she was making to him? He didn’t--do this but instead just waited for her to be complete before giving her a bit of a crooked white toothy grin. Thank GOODNESS for that last part. ‘no experience necessary’. This is how he knew he was already a head of the ‘others’ who also were also ‘applying for this job’ like him. As in, little did he know he was actually the only one who had responded to this ad, but to him, he’d just assumed there was much more folks in line to become her farmhand. 

      “at least some?” He repeated off from her question, giving the hairs on his chin a little scratch while doing a small mouth shrug. “ Wh’ell Ah’d help build a couple farms in mah heydays...” He’d explained “ And d’uuh--As fer yo’re live stock, Ah’m purdy good with a’takin’ care of and handlin’ animals.” That’s when it dawned on him. He had quite a lot under his belt he was able to show off. Even if what he’d done wasn’t technically like a job of this sort, it was still something. With this sudden realization came a glow that had radiated out from him. You could just tell by how he was beginning to carry himself that he was feeling a lot more sure of this, or sure that he couldn't have too much to worry about. I mean--the job said no experience, right? and he had PLENTY, persay. 

      “ --Ah specialize in woodwork, yuh’know, anythang thet has tuh do with craftsmanship...construction. Ah do it all by hand too so over the years Ah’ve became mighty keen at uh--uh, DETECTING when even the smallest of things needs a’fixin’ or attention tuh. Ah-Ah do say Ah can apply these skills Ah’ve learned from over the years tuh this here smallholding of yor’s.” 

      Clint’s upbeat attitude dropped like a nail when the lady had indicated him to put a hold up on what he was doing. He was confused. Isnt this how it works? You come to get the job and you work to prove you’re worthy. Is that not how she’d like to know if he’s good or not? What if someone came here and could talk the talk but not walk the walk? You’d have to prove these things wouldn’t you? And wouldn't she want him to work as soon as possible meaning--today. at this very moment. It didnt make sense to him, not even in the slightest. 

      He cocked a brow while listening to her reasonings, getting a little bit better of an understanding but not the fully a hundred percent. Well, if this is how she wanted to do it then so be it! “Oh okay” Clint said with a few loosey goosey nods as though he caught was she was throwing to him. He repositioned himself to be in a very up straight and prideful stance before continuing with a “ Winnie, or--Ms.Fosters, it’s a pleasure meetin’ you.” He then offered a hand out to her, bringing it down with more slanted and relaxed shoulders so she could better take a hold. “--Ah’m Clint. Just---Clint.” He said feeling a little weird about not being able to give a last name. Truth be told he didn’t really have one. He was always just called by this name and this name only. If he did have a last or even middle name he hadn’t the single clue on what it could or would be. 

  Despite only recently coming under new ownership, many a Pelican Town local seemed to agree that the heart of Stardew Valley was none other than Foster’s Farm. It was quite a large patch of land, characterized by it’s rolling green fields and extensive history within the town itself. But it was it’s current owner who helped restore the farm to it’s glory days, after years of neglect left the land borderline unusable. In fact, it was perhaps even more prosperous now than it was in it’s heyday, thanks to the diligence and hard work of one young lady in particular.

   After inheriting the property from her grandfather some time after his passing, Winnie Foster quit her office job in the city and moved to the valley in order to tend to the land. It wasn’t easy, of course, and there were many times where she doubted herself and wondered if it would even be worth it to try and salvage the dilapidated property. It would have been easy, after all, to simply sell the land and have it be someone else’s problem– but she remained undeterred. With determination and more than a little elbow grease (not to mention plenty of gold), Winnie did more than just fix up an old farm. Whether she herself knew it or not, she’d brought with her a new breath of life into the small community.

   The farm was the heart of Stardew Valley, and Winnie Foster was the heart of the farm.

   When you first step onto the property, it would seem the land had all the hallmarks of your average farm; the ambient noises of a collection of barnyard animals, the smell of fertilizer and various other green things, a dirt path leading from the farmhouse out to the fields. The buildings, from the barn to the farmhouse itself, seemed fairly new in comparison to the worn & weathered appearance of the land, indicating their comparatively recent addition. The verdant landscape smelled healthy and prosperous, likely tended by skilled hands. And the newcomer’s arrival did little to disturb the peace.

   White floorboards creak slightly under the weight as he steps up to the door, drawing the attention of a cat lounging nearby. Blue eyes open slowly, sluggish, to peer up at the hulking figure standing on the porch. After a moment, it simply stretched out it’s feline limbs and yawned, before flopping nonchalantly onto it’s side. Not even the loud knocking on the door, or the subsequent dog barking that followed, seemed to bother it.

   There’s a faint sound of hurried shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by a female voice gently chiding the barking dog (though her exact words are muffled through the wood). And after a moment, the doorknob turns, revealing a rather unassuming and almost dainty-looking young lady.

“ Hello– ” she starts, but blinks a few times as her sight immediately falls not on a face, but a torso. Taking a step out the door, her gaze quickly travels upwards, until it at last falls upon the face of her visitor. Apart from his intimidating stature, he had broad shoulders and muscles that certainly sent a message. However, he had a kind a pleasant face.

“ Oh! ” not wanting to be rude, Winnie keeps her oggling to a minimum and smiles, while trying to keep a rather excited canine from rushing out the door. “ Hi there! How can I– down, Libby– how can I help you? ”

     While awaiting for the other’s arrival, Clint couldn't help but to notice the rather stagnant cat that laid not too far from where he stood. Prior to noticing this feline, the man admittedly was quite yellow bellied about this entire situation. He never really...had a job. Or well, he WORKED but to say it was on his own terms was another story. He was expected to work from the day he was able to hold an axe to the day he, well--left! But seeking a job and having to do all the acquirements to achieve said job? It was a whole new animal! But the feeling of ease and serenity washed over him by the mere sight of this fluffball. Yes it was true, and it wasn’t positively hard to find, how this goliath of a man had the most, if not, the biggest soft spot for animals. Cats were no exception to this and his attention was almost dead set on it. The most gracious of gleams spread across his lips during the observation of them. He knew he couldn’t, but goodness did he just wanna pick this fuzzball up and give them an abundance of attention and affection. I mean--don’t all animals at the end of the day deserve such thing?

     He was soon cut off by the sound of muffled talking occurring on the other side of the door. He...couldn’t make out what was being said BUT he could most definitely tell that it was a female’s voice on the other end. It was a rather pleasant voice if he did say so himself, and upon her opening the door it was most clearer than day to say that such a voice did in fact suit the face that it’d belonged to. She was a dainty one while remaining quite graceful and exquisite yet still bringing off a sense of empowerment? Business? He couldnt QUITE pinpoint it just yet but still, he’d been lying to himself if he didnt say he was at least a bit surprised to of seen such a person come out of the household to greet him. Was this...her farm? Did anyone else own the place? Perhaps a family business was going on and different folks took different shifts while remaining almost equally in charge? Who knew--it was just the curiosity poking at his brain that made these questions all come to mind. 

     “-Howdy ma’am--” He greeted, his voice fitting the essence of his being almost too keenly. The voice carried itself in a rather hefty manner, almost having some sort of ruggedness to it. There was also a very distinct accent, a heavy one at that, that cloaked his words. The man didn’t speak fast, not even close-- he kept his pace at such a relaxed and mellowed tone. It was funny though, despite all of this, there was still a sense of comfort to it; almost as though it’d been dipped in sweet Tennessee honey it’self.

     “Wh’ell y’see uhh--” he let out a small ‘oop’ sound and put a hand up momentarily in response to her pet pooch trying to escape from out the house while she kept it contained. After that, he finished off with a “--Ah seen yuh needed some help...lahk, aaaa farm hand?”

      Unraveling the paper he had in his hand, Clint proceeded by showing the woman it. It was in fact the flyer that’d been calling out for some help. He wished he could of been a little more professional about this like giving a phone call beforehand but that just wouldn't of been possible seeing how he, well...didnt have one really.

     Clint, despite not having a job like this, still knew the ins and outs of how it worked or what was most expected from gaining such a position. So, in hopes of catching her interest or at least having her give him some sort of chance he continued “Ah’d greatly appreciate it if you’d let me show yuh whut Ah can do. Ah’m-- uh-huh-huh...a lot better with showing muh work ethics than a’speakin’ it.” He explained before rolling the paper he’d had back up and stuffing it rather all willy nilly into his pocket, obviously more focused on getting her to give him this farm hand title than anything else.

      Dazzling, shimming rays basked down from the sun while entering the earth’s crust, in doing so, cascading such a crisp warmth to those below it. Light and bright hues filled the area around them making everything appear so much more vibrant; so much more lively. A cooling, yet rather soothing breeze every so often announced its arrival with a gentle whiiisssh. These gusts picked up fallen leaves and loose dandelion seeds that once clung onto the flower. It almost shared a resemblance of fairies dancing amongst the air, swaying to their own little melody that nature itself had to offer. At least, this was always how Clint’d pictured it. There was many things Clint would bask over that the common joe may simply overlook or not take time to admire. Maybe it was due to him always being surrounded by nature and nature only that made him appreciate the little things in life. Ironic, being how he was also quite literally a giant-- you’d expect him to be less observant or not notice the itsy bitsy things in life. But this just wasn’t the cas! If anything, in a odd way, it made him be even that much more attention giving to the landscape. He was constantly on the look out, being aware and very much so mindful of just how careful he had to be as to not accidentally--well, step on something or someone. Goodness just that thought or worry alone was enough to make himself sick but, luckily because of his keen eye and over caution mind it’d never happened. 

      Luckily for him, he had a good supply of glamour left to use. What is glamour you might ask? Why, it was a special elixir he was able to acquire from a long term witch he’d met many years back. The thing is, or the catch of it was it wasn’t a free thing. He always had to find ways to be able to afford the glamours and seeing how he didnt have a stable or steady income, there would be weeks or even month of him not being able retrieve any and end up stuck in his normal gigantic form. He still found ways to offer payments, that being fixing anything she’d need repairs on, going out to find specific ingredients for particular spells, so on and so forth. But these deeds weren’t always needed from him, so he had to find another way to get a actual steady and mighty stock of potions. What he needed was money...And he had just the idea on how he could acquire it too. 

      Strolling down the dirt path was a wieldy large man; one who almost looked to be built as strong and mighty an ox! At first glance, it was tremendously easy to write him off as someone you wouldn't want to interact with, not in a million years. His sheer size, even with the elixir, was enough to make folks quiver-- which honestly happened far more times than he could count. But with closer expectation, it wasn’t hard to see the golden heart he’d wear ever so comfortably on his sleeve. 

      In his hand he held a sheet of loosely paper, one he’d found pinned to the side of a building while back in the city near the time of him visiting a local farmer’s market last week. Why did it took him a full week to act upon the paper’s inquiry? It wasnt hard to see-- even though it was asking for help on a farm which he knew for a fact he was more than capable of handling, he still needed time to think on it beforehand. A lot of doubt washed over and into his mind--what if he ran out of elixirs and missed work? What if it wore off while he was working and he ended up causing more damage than repairs? Or what if his soon to be boss found out what he was? That he wasn't just some ordinary human but an actual full fledge giant. Would they want him gone? Would they too, similar to all the others he’d met in the past, get petrified and flee? Demand him to-- begone? Who knew...but he had to do this. Nonetheless, he just had to put his foot through the door and give it a try. It was better than automatically declaring a defeat. 

Send me 技 and I’ll draw your muse!

     Though Craig was understandably hesitant, he couldn’t help but find himself seriously considering the giant’s offer. Since he hadn’t been paying much attention to where he was walking or for how long, the odds of him finding his way back without getting himself even more lost were pretty slim.

“ Huh… Really? ” 

     It might seem a bit haphazard to trust the other so quickly, given that he only just met him and still couldn’t really be sure of his intentions, but Craig always felt like he was a fairly good judge of character. Besides, he figured if the giant truly did want to hurt him in some way, he’d have done so by now. There really wasn’t much Craig could have done about it, either. 

“ That’s very… Kind of you to offer, Mr. Clint. ” was the mister necessary? Perhaps not. But it was probably best to be polite to the man who could at any moment squish you like an insect. You know, just to be safe. 

“ You probably know the offer a lot better than I do. I’m from the city, so I’m not good at navigating through, well, trees and such. ” he gave a small shrug, burying his hands deep into his pockets. 

     Truth be told, he wasn’t really in any particular rush to get home. But Clint probably had more important things to do than entertain him.

“ If you could just point me in the general direction of the nearest city, I should be able to find my way back just fine. ” 

      And that he did! for being out in these woods for god knows how long now, Clint had grown very accustomed to knowing the ins and the outs. As to where many may get boggled and start going around the place aimlessly like a chicken with it’s head chopped off, to the giant, it was more like a walk in the park. He could pinpoint particular areas based merely on recognizing a tree based on it’s shape, or a certain boulder that’s been sat among the brush. So, to say he was the perfect guide to get the boy back home would be quite the understatement. 

      Expressing friendliness, Clint kept a small but welcoming simper across his lips. He wanted Craig to gain at least some sort of trust with him. Enough to let him help him back to the city. He didn’t...expect anything else out of this to make it blunt. The idea was to just get him back to the city, and maybe now that Craig knew about his existence, it’d keep him from returning to these woods or least from venturing so far within. Or so--this is what Clint had tucked away into his own head. 

      The giant let out a hefty hearty chortle as though Craig’d just told him some sort of joke. Oh what a silly boy-- a silly city boy. He could try to point him in the direction of which to go but odds are, he’d most likely wind up getting himself lost again, and without him being there to continue to guide him, who knows what terrible outcome that’d put himself into. 

                           “ Sure Ah can do that--” he’d muster out while his laugh toned down to small humorous chuckles. He cleared his throat momentarily while waving a hand in front of him as a gesture of apology “ No, no Ah’m sorry, um...Ah ain’t think that’s the best idea...” He began, sounded more serious than teaseful “ -- Ah COULD point you where tuh go...but atween you and me, Ah think you may not understand mah directions. Unless you can pick out certain treeesss, brush, bussshhhes...yuh see whut Ah’m gettin’ at?” 

Oscar had bumped into a fair amount of… odd people in his life, although their oddities weren’t ever part of their true soul and spirit. They simply came, however, from their appearance. And as he stood there behind his stand, he realized that no, maybe 6′5″ wasn’t that tall…. because this fellow was humongous. And as Oscar looked up at him, he swallowed for a moment, intimidated by the absolute giant standing before him–

–but, quickly, his brain caught up with his mouth. It was just a man’s height. Nothing more than that. He looked like, somehow, a lumberjack taken out of a legend. A friendly one, yes. Hopefully. Hopefully. Hopefully.

The man indeed resembled somewhat of a librarian, with his unusually comfy look as compared to everybody else. A big hat to protect his face, a thin sweater that covered his neck like a snake, and then a pair of glasses making his big bug-like eyes even more bug-like. And those eyes, quivering upon looking up at his new customer, whose shadow blocked out the enormous sunlight, were unblinking.

“… Peach, peaches,” he repeated, and he began to flail his arms around on the stand full of baskets. “Yes! I have, um… peaches.” He disappeared underneath his stand for a moment before hauling up a basket. “Peaches! Here you are, yes.” A bundle full of fresh pink and white fruits, with a man standing behind it awkwardly tapping his fingers together.

“Are they… the ones you’d like?”

      With a cocked brow, Clint began to observe this other fellow’s demeanor. To be quite frank, he couldn’t tell if this man was merely always typically just a nervous ninny or if it was him that was making this fella move in such a gosh-darn timid way. 

      If Clint was being entirely honest with himself, he too would have to admit there was such a uncomfortable aura in the air between him and the seller. The way he just...stared at him with those widen owl eyes that neglected the function to blink. Don't be rude, Clint thought to himself as he shifted his gaze away from the guy. Despite this person being noticeably, and unsurprisingly smaller than he was, the behavior let alone was still enough to make Clint get the creeps. Alarm bells began to go off in his head, telling him to make a break for it. At this point, It didn't matter if this person seemed to be made of skin and bones, he still couldn't help but to feel a sort of uneasiness.

      As he’d disappeared behind the counter, Clint took the time to glance around. For a moment he debated on walking away. Maybe he could tell this stranger he needed something else, something he might be able to spot at another stand; one AWAY from here. But just as he was about to scout for a place to hurry off to, the peaches were already brought right up and in front of him, causing his plans cease to be. Maybe he could decline it and get away but...hrrrmm...actually. With much surprise the peaches shown to him looked really, and I mean really, good! 

            “Wh’ell paint me blue and call me red!”                He exclaimed “ Them peaches seem                 tuh be in tip top shape...!                Annd...you grown these yuh’self?” 

      Of course he had, it was HIS booth with his produce-- But it was mainly the shock that made Clint ask this blatantly obvious question. His shoulders slouched down as he became a little more at ease. Maybe he was wrong to judge. Maybe this guy wasn’t so out there after all! Upon this thought, Clint felt a hint of guilt nipping at the inside of his stomach. He shouldn’t be so quick to judge, and perhaps, he should give this stranger a bit more of a chance before he decides to ditch the scene and paint his own picture of them before getting to know him. It was a bit of a self sickening feeling as, well-- he’d known many to do this to him and it’d always pained him to see others flee or get so frightened by him without even giving him that chance to make a first impression, hence even getting to say something at all sometimes! 

      A bit of a small gleam appeared on the man’s face and he dipped his head down in approval.