Submission (#7787) Approved

Il’durahn always looked beautiful in the morning, but today… today, it was a mess.

The wind hadn’t let up all night, shaking the trees so hard that leaves now buried the cobbled streets. They were piled in doorways of buildings, swept into alleyways, and plastered against market stalls. It should have been charming, should have, with Bellmoril’s famous autumn colors stretching as far as the eye could see. But after spending the morning trying to clear the pesky things, Shimmer was convinced they were a plague.

She swept the broom with steady determination, trying to form the unruly leaves into manageable piles. Every time she made progress, a stray gust would send them scattering again. Frustrated, she let out a huff.

A nearby vendor chuckled as he watched her struggle. “Leaf duty, huh? You got the short end of the stick, kid.”

Shimmer flicked an ear, blowing a stray leaf from her nose. “Tell me about it.”

The vendor, an older Elnin, was busy setting up his stall. The smell of warm cider and baked apples clung to the air around him, making the space feel comfy and inviting. Shimmer’s stomach grumbled.

“Here,” he said, setting a steaming wooden mug on the counter. “You look like you could use a break.”

She hesitated. “I’m supposed to be working. Or you could say fighting against these leaves”

“And you’ll work better with something warm in you.”

That was convincing enough. She handed over a few coins, wrapping her paws around the mug’s comforting heat before taking a sip. The sweetness hit first, followed by a gentle bite of spice that hit the back of her throat. It was the kind of drink that shook off the early chill and settled deep in her chest with warmth.

“Mmmmm, this is the best cider in Il’durahn,” she admitted.

The vendor grinned from ear to ear. “Wouldn’t dare sell anything less.”

Shimmer let herself enjoy the quiet moment, leaning against the stall as the city around her woke up. Vendors called to early customers. The scent of roasted chestnuts mingled with cinnamon and fresh bread, promising a warm meal. Somewhere in the distance, a musician played a tune on a lute, their music weaving through the crisp morning.

Maybe she’d bring Olympia here one day.

She smiled at the thought and set the mug down, rolling her shoulders before grabbing the broom again. The leaves hadn’t given up, but neither had she.

As she moved back to her task, another breeze swept through the street, rustling the rooftops. A small group of leaves slid free from the top of a nearby building, tumbling through the air in a slow, swirling descent.

Shimmer barely had time to glance up before the entire heap landed directly on her.

For a long moment, she didn’t move, blinking with surprise. Leaves stuck to her fur, tangled in her ears, and clung stubbornly to her tail. A particularly crisp one slid down the bridge of her nose before fluttering to the ground in what she could only assume was mockery.

The vendor snorted. “Well, now you match the scenery.”

Shimmer groaned, shaking herself off as the leaves scattered in every direction, undoing at least half of her morning’s work.

“Fluffing fantastic,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing the broom once more.

She bent to her task with renewed focus, this time working faster, gathering the piles before another breeze could undo her progress. With a few quick movements, she shoved them into the waiting sack. One down, a thousand more to go.

She sighed but couldn’t help a small laugh. Maybe the leaves would always win in the end, but at least the cider made it a fair fluffing fight.