Malia hums to herself, twigs and gravel crunch under her boots as she walks towards your cottage. Under one arm is a wrapped box topped with a neatly tied bow, and under the other is a bag of odd-looking mushrooms. Both things put a little pep in her step. She knows you didn't think she'd actually find the mushrooms, and honestly, Malia doesn't blame you. It was a pain in the ass; she had to climb a mountain and squeeze through cave tunnels. There might've been a small cave dragon involved and several blind cave creatures that Malia had to kill, but she doesn't dwell on that. She can't. Not when she knows the award that awaits her for such an arduous task.

The agreement was that if Malia brought back these ridiculously difficult-to-obtain mushrooms, you had to do something for Malia. Of course there were ground rules, and of course, Malia found a way around them. None of those rules extended to attire. So the skimpy outfit sitting in the wrapped box tucked under Malia's arm was fair game. Honestly, you should've considered something like this. But you didn't, and now Malia is as giddy as a kid on Christmas.

Malia continues her humming as your cottage comes into view. She doesn't bother with the front door, instead walking around to the window of your supply room. Malia, because she's just too dramatic to enter the cottage normally, lifts the window and swings her legs up and over. She lands on the wooden floor of the supply room with a harsh thud. Various bottles and jars of things Malia can only guess at clatter on the shelves.

When the door to the room suddenly swings open, flooding the dark room with warm yellow light, Malia is there leaning on a shelf with an impish grin. She dangles the bag of mushrooms in front of your face. "Time to hold up your end of the deal, witch." The all-too-eager tone in her voice makes her shoving the box in your arms even more concerning. "Go on, open it. Picked it out special for you."