Chapter 3 Finn Feenbart and the Mushroom Market of Tiny Grove

More about Chapter 3 Finn Feenbart and the Mushroom Market of Tiny Grove

Finn Feenbart continued his wanderings through the Dewwood, his humming carrying tiny sparks of light among the trees, as if the melody itself could awaken blossoms. The shadows with whom he had danced had long since slipped back into their quiet corners, but their joy still lingered in his heart. It was a good morning for surprises, and Finn was open to any that wished to reveal themselves. As he descended a gentle slope, he noticed a scent he couldn't possibly have missed: the aroma of fried moss bread, sweet spore syrup, and a hint of... toasted acorn crunch. This could only mean one thing. Tiny Grove. The largest—or rather, smallest—market in the entire forest. Here, mushroom-creatures, minuscule traders the size of a chestnut, traded in everything that couldn't be bought, but only spoken of. Stories, songs, lost dreams, wishes dreamt in vain, and occasionally a few particularly beautifully folded spiderwebs. Finn had visited it once years ago, but markets of this kind changed with every step of time. Some stalls grew, others disappeared, and the vendors knew every visitor, even if they'd never seen them. You didn't have to have been there to be welcome. As Finn stepped onto the forest floor, the mushroom caps opened like umbrellas over small shops made of moss, roots, and tiny baskets. A mushroom vendor with a pink cap and a round face looked up at him. "Ah! The Buzzing One! The one who brings sounds without carrying them! Welcome back! Would you like to try some? It costs nothing, except perhaps a giggle." "I like to giggle," Finn said politely, and suddenly he had a piece of warmth between his fingers: moss bread with spore syrup, soft as clouds and sweet as a sunrise you've slept through but still carry in your heart. While he ate, the merchants arrived from all directions, not loudly, but simply present, like thoughts that remember you like them. A mushroom with a green cap and much-too-large glasses announced, "The main lecture is about to begin! Where is everyone? We have guests! Real guests! With hair! Real hair!" This caused a stir. There were hardly any people around. Or forest walkers who looked like people. Or fairy-haired creatures. Or, as one whispered, "the one with the quiet laugh." Finn followed the crowd, which wasn't really a crowd at all, but rather... a heap of hopping, rolling, chattering mushroom-beings, moving like marbles. On a small pedestal made of woven roots stood a mushroom with a purple cap who looked so important it was almost comical. He was very small, but his bearing was large enough for three kings. "Ladies, gentlemen, spores, and other attendees!" he called out. "Welcome to the First Moon Preparation Dance Class! Today we're practicing the Wobbly Step!