Dawn spilled across the sky like paint water from a fallen cup, and with it came Tazmin on his morning walk. Padding quietly out of his nest after kissing his sleepy wife and bidding her good morning, he stepped from their little cottage into the early light. The air smelled like ocean and dew and freedom, and he paused to breathe it in with a smile. “Good morning, world!” he called to the sky as he began down the well-worn path he usually took, delighting in the feeling of the sand under his paws.

Tazmin was a man who liked to live a simple life. His wife, Amber, was the breadwinner – a marine biologist working to document Oakwood’s more unusual marine life – while he spent most of his time wandering around town, buying groceries and taking care of the house. It was a good deal, balanced and fair, with both partners happy in the little world they’d built for themselves. Every day, per his routine, Tazmin would wake up at dawn for his daily walk and come back right in time for breakfast. He’d talk with Amber, who usually started her day by cooking something, then help her pack her work materials and send her off at 9:00am sharp. After that, the house was his, and it was his job to take care of domestic responsibilities until Amber came home at 5:00pm. The rest of the evening was usually played by ear, except for dinner at 6:30pm.

It may have been simple, but it was also all he needed.

“… We came on the sloop John B, my grandfather and me…”

Singing wasn’t always part of the morning routine, but today felt like it called for it, and Tazmin was more than happy to oblige. He had, after all, once recited the entire Jabberwocky while beachcombing for his wife. Not to mention his performance of The Rime of an Ancient Mariner to a very uninterested seagull last month. It had flown off halfway through, but he’d refused to let that deter him from reciting the entire thing.

“Around Nassau town, we did roam… Drinking all night, got into a fight… Well I feel so broke up, I wanna go home…”

He took a turn up a trail where the sand gradually turned to sidewalk, and sidewalk turned to leaf litter. The morning light filtered through the redwoods above, dappling him in shadow as the local wildlife began to start their days, just like he did.

“So hoist up the John B’s sails, see how the mainsail sets…”

“Hey, that one’s by the Beach Boys, isn’t it?”

Tazmin stopped dead in his tracks, glancing down the length of a side trail to see someone in a red flannel shirt, looking at him with warm curiosity.

“Oh! It is, yes. I wasn’t aware there was anyone else out this early. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

The newcomer chuckled, shaking their head. “No, no, it’s fine. I just haven’t heard that one in a while. Since around when it came out, actually.”

Tazmin felt his ears prick up at that. “Well, I’m glad to see someone else knows it. Nobody I was friends with really gave it a listen.”

“My parent liked the ocean. My sibling and I heard a lot of it growing up… which is funny, considering the whole thing is about being miserable on the ocean and wishing you were anywhere else.”

“Did you know it was originally a West Indies folk song?”

“It is?”

Tazmin nodded, smiling warmly at the other hiker. “It is. Actually, a lot of the media we see today draws on folk stories and traditions.”

The other person nodded, falling into stride next to him. “I’ve definitely seen some of that, yeah,” they replied, reaching up to adjust the strange, antlered mask they were wearing. “My name’s Avery, but the way.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Avery! I’m Tazmin.”

Avery raised an eyebrow at that. Tazmin wasn’t sure how he knew this, since their eyebrows were covered by the mask, but he knew it. “Like the guy who used to be on Nameless One’s squad? I thought you’d left town by now. At least, that’s what Deb told me.”

Tazmin remembered Deb. He’d been fresh on his job enforcing Cosmic Law under the Goddess of Justice when he’d met them, but they’d been nice enough. He used to pass their place on the way to and from work every day before he’d quit and moved in with Amber. They had two kids a little younger than he was, one of whom had been adopted after the loss of the other local land spirit in a situation Tazmin never got the full details of.

“You’re Deb’s kid?” He asked incredulously, mouth dancing into a playful grin. “If I’m honest, I thought they’d been pulling my leg this entire time. You’re certain I’m not hallucinating you?”

“I mean… I was definitely real last time I checked.”

That elicited a chuckle from Tazmin, who playfully shook his head. “Well, that’s good, then. I’d hate to find out that someone with such good music taste wasn’t real,” he replied, gesturing with his tail like one might with their hands. “I think I prefer conversations with real people, don’t you?”

Avery snorted. “Definitely.”

They took a turn, winding around some particularly impressive redwoods. The sky opened up a little after that, the rising sun bathing Tazmin’s face and back like a blanket made of light. Avery paused for a moment to look at a squirrel scrambling up a nearby trunk, watching as it disappeared into the foliage of a smaller pine. Tazmin was pleased to see that they didn’t have much trouble keeping up with his trotting pace, seeing as their legs were long enough that their walking strides fell into easy pace with his own. He could only assume they’d be able to outrun him at a full sprint.

“I’m sorry if this is rude to ask, but are you from the UK?” Avery asked him, turning back to face him. Their head tilted upwards a little, trying to make eye contact with the 7-foot-tall spirit. “Your accent sounds British.”

Ah. That question.

Tazmin was used to this particular inquiry, and had no problem with it. He’d been answering it most of his life, usually to satisfy genuine and idle curiosity from people he encountered, and he never held it against anyone. He was a man who believed in exploring and asking questions, so he wasn’t about to fault anyone for asking about something as simple as where he was from. It wasn’t like they were asking for his credit card information, after all.

“Surprisingly enough, I’m not, actually,” the tall canine answered with a smile, trying to show that he wasn’t upset about the question at all. “I was raised by the old head librarian – the one before our current one – and most of the library staff. The head librarian was an Englishman, and he taught me to speak, so I suppose I must’ve picked it up from him. I’ve never actually been outside of America.”

Avery seemed a little surprised by that information. “You were raised in the library? The Oakwood Community Library? The one lived in by a literal god? That one?”

“Is there another library I wasn’t aware of?” he replied, tone mostly teasing but underlaid with something semi-genuine. If there was actually another library, he wanted to take a detour there as soon as he possibly could. The only other library in town that he already knew of was one held by a local knowledge god, and the books there were exclusive to that god’s disciples – which Tazmin was very much not.

“Did you ever encounter him?”

“No, not really. It was a pretty big library, and I’ve heard he keeps to the attic.”

They paused for a second, seeming to think. “Yeah, that sounds like most gods. Appear when you need them, keep to themselves otherwise. One of those things where you know a guy who knows a guy.”

Do I tell them?

Tazmin didn’t usually lead with his past when meeting new people. He liked the present, liked to talk about the current color of the sky or the weather or whatever book he was reading recently. He’d been retired from his previous job for so long he honestly forgot he used to work sometimes. The talk of gods had jogged his memory.

I’ll tell them. Wouldn’t hurt.

As they took a turn around another bend in the trail, stepping carefully over some little rocks in their path, he began to formulate how to begin this particular story. For once, he couldn’t really find a good way to start it. After a few moments, he settled on “Did you know I used to work for a god?”

“Hang on. You used to be a disciple?”

The incredulity was there, but not as much as he was expecting there to be. He supposed that made sense for a land spirit. They were much more distant from gods than other species – after all, even a deity was a guest in their domain. He appreciated that. “Yeah,” he replied, talking as though it were the most normal thing ever, because to him it was. “I worked with Nameless One for a while when I was younger. Lovely boss, actually.”

Avery arched a brow at him (or at least he assumed they did under their mask). “You worked with the justice goddess? The one who enforces literal cosmic law and gets rid of any criminals that violate it?”

“Yes, I was.”

“You were the magic police?”

“Yes, I was.”

The land spirit seemed genuinely a little dumbfounded for a second. After a few heartbeats of confused silence, they began to laugh, a rich sound that came up from their belly and through their mouth and chest. “You,” they began between chortles, “You have some of the craziest dad lore I’ve ever heard! Oh my god, you’re awesome.”

“Why thank you!” Tazmin replied with a grin. “Would you be alright telling me some of yours?”

---

It turned out Avery was a talker with an eventful childhood. Tazmin didn’t mind, though he could tell there were some details they were leaving out. That was okay. He knew better than to pry. They were a kid who ran through sand dunes, chased seagulls, picked up music when they were in their early teens, and grew up by getting into predicament after predicament due to their own young hubris. It pleased Tazmin greatly to hear their stories.

Then, after several turns, they found themselves in the parking lot of Oakwood’s Walgreens. The sun rose warm in the sky, warming the tarmac under Tazmin’s paws to a temperature that, fortunately, wasn’t too hot for his bare pads to handle. The lot was devoid of any life other than them, mostly because no self-respecting person came to a Walgreens until after 9:00 in the morning, which was when Tazmin had to be back by anyways.

“All roads lead to Walgreens, huh,” Avery observed, hands on their hips as they stared at the building in front of them.

“Do they?” Tazmin asked, glancing over at them and tilting his head in a display of curiosity. 

“I’ve hiked every trail Oakwood has to offer. Trust me, they always end up near the Walgreens. Somehow. Always.”

Tazmin paused, processing that revelation for a second. It was a bizarre concept, to have the Walgreens somehow draw all trails to lead in its direction eventually, but Oakwood was a bizarre town. Why it was the Walgreens and not the Safeway or Target or Home Depot eluded him, but if there was anything he knew about the world, it was that not everything was meant for mortal minds to understand. Then again…

“That sounds like typical Oakwood, yeah,” he replied with a shrug. “At least the Walgreens isn’t hostile.”

“… Sure. As far as you know.”

Tazmin couldn’t see Avery’s face behind the mask, but their tone gave them a mischievous, teasing smile in his mind.

“I’d like to think the Walgreens is more trustworthy than that. It gives us medicine, after all.”

“Yeah, me too.”

As Avery put their hands in their pants pockets and shifted quietly on their feet at his side, Tazmin cast his eyes up at the fancy lettering of the sign mounted on the building in front of them. A plastic bag was caught on the edge of one, blowing like a sad little flag in the breeze. It looked so small, so lonely, so lost.

“I’m glad I live in Oakwood,” Tazmin decided out loud after a moment, eyes still fixed on the bag. As he said the words, a particularly strong gust of wind came through and sent it floating down to the tarmac. It tumbled a few feet before hitting a lamppost and stopping as the breeze subsided again.

“So am I,” Avery agreed next to him, a smile warming the edges of their words. “It’s a pretty special place.”

“That it is, that it is.”

“… Race you to pick up the bag?”

A pause. It had been awhile since Tazmin had been in a race of any kind, and he usually considered himself uncompetitive, but he wasn’t exactly one to turn down what sounded like a fun opportunity. With a grin that showed sharp, pearly white teeth, he braced himself to spring forward. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great! Last one there is a rotten egg!”

And with the sound of boots and paws thundering against the blacktop, they were off, sprinting with laughter and childlike joy.

Tazmin may have had a simple life, but it was a damn good one.