A rumbling sound started up from over the ridge. Something was clattering up the rough trail they called a road in these parts, kicking up dust and rocks and making quite the ruckus. Wagons drawn by horses or Canterose had a rhythmic, almost musical tune, hooves and shoes and wheels all working along together. Whatever this was had only one sound, a whirring whine that didn't sound like anything else you've ever heard. When it finally came up over the hill, a body could see it much better. A carriage with no tack, just a driver in front with a mess of levers and knobs, and on back, a big wheel with a Turnipig running so fast you'd think its tail leaves were on fire. Maybe they were.

The metal buggy clattered in through the town's dusty open gate and rumbled to a stop by the stables. The horses looked up from their pickets to see the others of their kind they could socialize with, but no creature was harnessed to the front. The untethered Oax looked out from under its red, leafy brow and sighed.

The sheriff had been napping near the stables in the shade, a grizzled black Hore-hound watching from a patch of sun. The Florabeast huffed, waking up the the lawman. He squinted and went to the carriage as the driver stepped down, pulling her heavy skirts out over the railing. She took off her traveling hat, and Sheriff wasn't quite ready for the auburn hair that spilled out, or the sharp green eyes that blinked at him. But really, few people were.

He was ready with his introduction speech, but she beat him to the draw. "Howdy Sheriff, my name's Eugenie Davenport, but please call me Jenie." She made sure the copper badge on her mantle was visible while she talked; a Swalsify in flight carrying a parcel. "As you can see, I don't need a stable, only a place to keep my Florapede out of the rain." She gestured to the conveyance she'd ridden in on. "It's a bit taller than most carriages, but still fits into smaller sheds. It does rain often out here by the Long Lakes, doesn't it?"

While she gabbed and the sheriff nodded along, the Turnipig hopped down from the wheel on the back of the carriage and stumbled over to the watering trough. It bumped against it a few times, too small to move it much. The Oax got the idea and tipped it back with a woody hoof, just enough to make a muddy mess that the Turnipig settled right down into. Not so much that the horses would be thirsty afterward, though.

Sheriff finally found his way into the conversation. "So... did you bring the mail for this month, ma'am? Usually, it comes by way of the Muleein train from Drygrass."

"Oh no, I don't carry local mail. I have a..." She batted her eyelashes. "Special commission. I've got a package to deliver farther north, and hoped to catch a boat across the lake. If you've got any mail headed that way, I can surely carry it, postage paid."

Sheriff squinted again. "Huh. Mail carrier and Gastrologer, then?"

Jenie stopped mid-breath. "How could you tell that?" He gestured to the cooking supplies strapped to the back of the Florapede, the racks of spices and ingredients. She smiled. "Oh, I surely am."

"Good, I may need to call on you for any Gast sightings."

"Really? In a quiet place like this?"

"Well, just some rumors. Can't be too careful, though..."

They kept on jawing while the Turnipig wallowed in its favorite kind of place. Dirt and water both, warmed by the precious sun. There weren't many better places for a Florabeast to be.

"Come now, Tolliver," Jenie's voice broke into his relaxation. "We need to see about boat fares, and they'll need to weigh you." Tolliver snorted, but got up and followed his planter, just like he'd been harvested to do.

 "Well isn't that just a rotten apple," Jenie said, settling down on a rough-sawn bench by the shore of the lake, arranging her skirts around and in front of her. The harbormaster's office was just up the path, fares written out on a big signboard, rows for ounces of gold or silver, dollars, and days of sorting cargo. "We don't have nearly enough money to put the Florapede in the hold. I can't see myself doing manual labor for long, and you're too small to hitch up to a cart. The postage from that parcel for the ferrier doesn't even help, it only made the fare higher!"

Tolliver was rooting around near a patch of grass, but still listening. Something in there must've smelled good, by the way he kept at it. Jenie sighed and set a spell, gazing out at the shore of the lake and the endless horizon beyond. A flock of Apricoots splashed around in the water with some Leequacks, while on a big rock Musturtles lounged about, all enjoying the late summer sun. She thought she might do that too, there was precious little time for it anymore. As she watched, wide green wings speckled with red swooped down to the water, a Lettucewan come to show off.

"We'll just need to find a job." Jenie stood up suddenly, the faded bench creaking. "I'll start asking around." She looked around too, to best know where to be asking. Just up the footpath was a row of wooden buildings, and the first one usually ended up being the best.

 Jenie read the shingle on the tiny shop, painted with red and yellow lettering. "Drinking chocolate? I've had chocolate at Christmastime, but I can't say I've ever drank it."

Tolliver grunted from the grassy patch across the road.

"Yes, love, you stay out here. I'll holler if I need you."

Inside the shop was all sorts of bright colors, more red and yellow, plus green and white and a few others. Right in the middle of the room was a big wooden table, set with clay cups and jugs and whatnot. Up along the ceiling were sheets of thin paper strung up in lines. Each one had a mess of holes punched across it, making a little picture. Some were of people dancing, others with rows of corn reaching to the sun.

There was only one other person there, a slight lady who looked a tad nervous. There wasn't much reason for her to be, what with the great big Nopaleón, covered in all kinds of spikes, sprawled out in the sun streaming in through the windows. The lady came over from a chair by the wood stove, her dress loose and decorated with bright beads. By her brown skin and black hair, it was clear she hailed from much farther south than Jenie.

"Hello," she started off. "I'm called Ina, would you like to try some drinking chocolate?"

Jenie was usually all business. Find the job, get the money, and move on to the next town, just like she'd done so many times before on this journey. But the scent of that simmering pot changed her mind right quick, even made her forget her rule against "unnecessary" expenses. It didn't help the first sample was on the house, neither.

 That was how Jenie Davenport spent the afternoon sipping cups of thick chocolate in a tiny Lake harbor town, like she'd just gone out for a day of socializing instead of searching the Frontier for her missing parents. It was a good thing, too, she'd been spending all day, every day, running packages and running away from Gasts. That kind of work took a mighty toll.

She and Ina sat around the table chatting like old friends. No one else came into the shop, not even to say how do you do, and after an hour or two Jenie mentioned this oddity.

"Well, it's maybe because what I sell is so different. The chocolaté they serve in Drygrass is so sweet, it hurts my teeth. I add a bit of chilé, just like my abuela made it."

"Chili peppers? Oh, that explains the spicy flavor."

Ina blinked at her. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it right away."

"I always have had an odd way of tasting things. A bit strange considering I'm a Gastrologer, but my recipes still turn out alright!"

Ina laughed loudly, the brightness in her eyes tarnishing fast. "I am glad also you could enjoy it before I close."

"Close for the day?"

"No, pack up for good."

"For good!?" Jenie set down her cup loudly. "Whatever for?"

The Nopaleón stirred at her raised voice, looking over at the ladies with deep pink eyes. Ina clucked her tongue. "Quiet now, Corazón. I'm fine." The beast curled back up into a ball of spines. "Money is difficult. My chocolaté comes all the way from my home country, and the price keeps rising with tariffs, the Blight, and the dangers of travel. Even the sugar I give to help with the spiciness, it's becoming expensive too, not to mention how it keeps disappearing."  She sighed a mournful breath. "The only reason I have this shop is I inherited it from my sister's husband. But when he passed away, she returned to the homeland, so I remain here."

Jenie's eyes were getting misty with this tale of woe. Something tickled her brain, though. "Did you say your sugar keeps disappearing?"

"Yes, every day the sack is lighter, even when I have no customers. Sometimes, I find the powdered chocolate missing too."

Her eyes dried quick, the opportunity looking mighty promising. "That sounds like a mystery! I'd be glad to look into it for you."

And that's how Jenie and Tolliver were roped into a new job. Find and stop the culprit that kept filching Ina's supplies, in return for boat fare across the lake. They really roped themselves, but no matter. They started by staking out the storeroom in the back of the chocolate shop. The day's travel had tuckered them both out, though, so next thing she knew the sun was shining through the window, Tolliver rooted next to her on the dry dirt floor.

"Well, there's always tomorrow, right? Or, I suppose, today!"

After breakfast, they checked over the walls, floors, and ceilings for any holes big enough for a mouse or Ratscallion to wiggle their way through. Ina offered lunch as a bonus payment, using some strong spices that Jenie collected for experimentation later. Corazón showed Tolliver his favorite rooting spot near the shore, and that's where Jenie had to rouse him from on the morning of the next day.

"Come on, Tolliver," she wheedled, patting his purple head and scratching behind his ear leaves the way he liked. Tolliver grunted and rolled over, exposing his pale belly for more. "The next boat comes in two days, so if you don't want to drive the Florapede all the way around the lake, you need to rise and shine and help me solve this mystery." That got him risen and shiny real quick.

Next thing they tried was asking around the town, if anybody had seen anything suspicious nearabouts the shop at the end of the row by the harbor. The one that sold chocolate drinks? Surely, that was the one. But no one had any good leads. Either they really hadn't seen a thing, or they weren't keen to share. It probably didn't help that both Jenie and Ina were outsiders, as far as the good people of the town were concerned.

The seeds of investigation finally bore the fruit of progress, that night after a fine  supper of chicken cooked in a sauce made from peanuts and chocolate. Jenie and Tolliver were hunkered down outside, behind a wood shed with a good view of the shop's back door. They'd kept themselves awake with coffee and sugar water, only the second for Tolliver and plenty of both for Jenie. She twirled a mixing flask in her free hand, two glass bottles joined together with a stopper between. Only a flick of the thumb for the oils and essences to swirl together for whatever Gastrological trickery might be needed.

She'd considered cooking up a coloration tincture. If it was an animal or Florabeast getting in the goods, they could find it easy in the morning on account of it being bright orange. If it was something else, though...

"I just don't think it could be a person," Jenie was saying to Tolliver, who sat still and quiet beside her. "This here town is pretty small, everybody knows everybody. Excepting us, of course. Wouldn't someone wonder where their child was sneaking off to in the middle of the night? Or maybe!" She put her hand to her heart, the flask dropping to her skirts. "It's a poor orphaned wastrel, with no place to call their own, having to survive on wild roots and thieving sugar for some small comfort!"

Tolliver snorted. Jenie picked up the flask again. "You're right, that don't seem likely."

Something heavy came down, hard. Tolliver's ears perked up. Jenie might've tasted odd things but she could hear just fine. The Turnipig got to his feet, eager to charge down whatever it was. His planter put a hand in front of him.

"Wait, let's give it a minute. We don't want to scare it off before we can get a good look at it."

Tolliver didn't like that plan, but he liked Jenie more. They started creeping closer, across the open ground. Jenie crouched low so her dress would cover up the sound of her boots on the gravel path. Tolliver clopped along as gentle as he could, which honestly wasn't very.

Just when they made it to the back wall and started peering around it, one of the bottles in Jenie's pocket clinked around. Too loud. A ruckus from inside, more noise, and the investigators pushed open the door to find—

Not a soul. Sugar spilled out on the floor, baskets and pots knocked over, and a window swinging open. Taunting them.

"Weeds!" Jenie swore. "I could've sworn I closed that window. Ina must've opened it to get some fresh air. It let the breeze in and the culprit out!"

Tolliver snuffled around on the ground, the only place he could reach easily. She looked down to where he'd been squealing. "What's there? Tracks? Sweet honey, you did it. Let's see what came in here."

She poured out a blue bottle in one of the prints on the ground. Five little claws, one pad. It certainly looked like one, but she had to be certain. After counting five Hippopotatos, she popped out a rubber copy of the track, every little detail saved in bright blue.

"I left my Florabeast Handbook in my luggage, but I'll bet you an acorn this was made by a Sugarcoon. I hope Ina doesn't mind the extra trouble to install a 'Coon-proof lock."

Turns out she wasn't, which left Jenie happier than a bee in springtime. She was packing up for her boat ride when Ina visited her at the hayloft she'd been camping in.

"I appreciate all of the work you've been putting into this," she began, "I certainly do." Jenie noticed she wasn't holding a boat ticket, or a sack of silver either. "I want to be completely certain that it is a Sugarcoon. I want you to trap it."

 That evening, Ina whipped up an extra sweet brick of chocolate, while Jenie added a handful of herbs that she claimed were strong enough to knock out an Ourachs. She knew the Sugarcoon wouldn't actually eat any of it, but just the smell and getting some on its grubby paws would be enough to do the trick. They'd tie the critter up and carry it across the lake to let it loose among the sweet, ripe berries of the north woods. It'd be less of a nuisance there.

The trap was set, Jenie was humming to herself, Tolliver hadn't even dozed off once. The back door flew open. Jenie nearly beaned herself on the woodshed's roof getting up so quickly.

"Tolliver, make sure it doesn't get—" She didn't finish. Nothing was getting anywhere. Instead of a greedy Sugarcoon passed out on the ground, there was a very different kind of creature sprawled out near the doorway.

"Help!" came the gasping cry. "Red cardamom... is poison to us!"

"A Gobblin?" It took Jenie precious seconds to figure through what was happening. Tolliver did his part, pushing the purple-skinned scavenger over on his back so Jenie could help him swallow down a few drops of fish nettle juice. It wasn't a hard job, the Gobblin was only as big as an eight-year old boy, though the rings piercing his large ears marked him as an early adult.

Once the Gobblin was settled and breathing normally, Jenie started in on the interrogation. "What in high heaven were you doing in there? All this time we thought it was a Sugarcoon, but it was really you thieving all those supplies?"

"I am no thief," the Gobblin spat, his crimson eyes as angry as could be. "I have rights to it." He wiped his toothy mouth with his hand. "Herr George and I made an agreement. I kept pests out of the storeroom, he let me take a handful of the sugar."

"George? You must mean Ina's brother in law?" The Gobb shrugged. "He's up on the church hill now."

"I did not know that. No one told me to stop, so I kept my end of the bargain."

"You could've said something to somebody!"

"How? Every time one of us comes around, you tall folk chase us off like we are pests instead!"

They were so busy laying into each other that neither noticed the smell. That acrid odor, like old meat, rotten eggs, and moldy bread, all mixed together and burned in a pan. Tolliver's flat snout wrinkled up, his leaf-ears laid against his head, his little curly tail pulled in. He started grunting and nosing against Jenie's leg.

"And what about those Sugarcoon tracks I found?"

"That was one of the pests I was hired to keep away!"

"Hmph... We'll see what Ina wants to do about this," Jenie said. "You'll have to work off all the sugar you took, and the chocolate pieces too."

"I took no chocolate, besides that piece you almost poisoned me with! I thought it was some reward for a job well done..."

"Wait, you never took chocolate?"

"Only sugar. That was the deal."

"Then who did— Tolliver, what's the matter?"

Brown lines streamed out of the back door across the ground, powdered chocolate drawn out of the sacks like water to the ocean. Jenie followed them with her eyes to the source, or the destination, or both. There in the moonlight, a soupy, sticky shape rose up on four legs; a thick body, big snout, and bowl-shaped antlers formed out of the cocoa and the darkness.

"A Chocomoose!" Jenie shouted. "Call the Gast Hunters! Gast by the shoreline!" She was yelling at the Gobblin, but didn't wait to see if he listened, just got to work herself. Without a hearth or even a campfire, the best cooking she could do was a cold mix, just using one of the flasks in her pocket. But it would have to do.

Tolliver got to business, too. Get in between the Bad Thing and his girl so she could fix up something to put it away for good. No point in tackling it, he was too small to give it much trouble. The Things weren't made of bones like an animal or phloem like he was. Instead, the plucky Turnipig ran in and out between the Gast's sticky legs, keeping it good and distracted.

Jenie got out two mixing bottles, one in each hand, red and blue swirling into green and yellow, but the Gast didn't pull back, shrink, anything. "It's powerful! It must've been feeding on that chocolate for a long while now, without anyone noticing."

Townfolk had come out after Jenie's scream, aiming rifles out of windows and doors. They didn't shoot, didn't want to attract the monster's attention to them instead.

"This'll never be enough," Jenie said. "I don't have time to build a fire, and I left my pocket grinder behind..."

The Chocomoose reared back on its hind legs, slamming down two sugary hooves where Tolliver had just been. It shook its awful head, globs of sludge flying off the antlers and missing the Turnipig again.

Jenie checked through all her belt pouches, looking for anything useful. Just when she was about ready to sound the retreat, she smelled something hopeful. Piquant, savory, and just nearby. The Gobblin had got a fire going in a copper brazier, burning herbs, fruit peels, and other good things.

The Gast smelled it too, somehow, and didn't care to wait for its doom to finish cooking. It charged, nearly squashed Tolliver flat, crossed the field in two slurps, when—

A dark shape plowed into the Chocomoose, knocking it clean over. The black Hore-hound growled, white flowers bristling, daring the Gast to try something. "Good work, Gracie!" the sheriff called, catching up to his faster beast. The Gast only raised up its misshapen head, before it was made even more ugly by the chunk of salt Sheriff blasted into it with his muzzle-loader. Tolliver and Gracie flanked it while he started reloading.

Jenie left them to it, scrambling around the edge of the fray to the fire bowl. "Thank you," she gasped. "This'll do the trick."

"It has strong salty flavor, too," the Gobblin said, his overalls smeared with chocolate-covered sludge.

Jenie shook her head. "You tasted it?"

"Of course," he wiped more of it off his rough mouth. "How else could I know what flavors to oppose it with?"

"Just assume..." she rifled through a pouch. "The flavor of the food it's made of?"

He blew on the coals a little to keep them going. "But now we know it has a dual flavor. It must have pulled in a bit of everything in that room. You do know how that will affect the diagram, yes?"

"Of course I know!" Jenie snapped, emptying some red flakes into the fire. "That's Ina's finest chili peppers. I ain't some apprentice scullery—" The roar of the fire cut her off, the roots and spices all coming together in the most peculiar way that Gastrologers were known for.

The flames turned blue, giving off a spicy, bitter smell. The Chocomoose had nearly gotten to its feet, but it went down on one messy knee. As the power from the fire grew, the monster started wobbling, then Sheriff got off one more salt blast at close range and it collapsed in a chocolatey heap. Good thing they were outside, that wasn't coming out of the rug.

Ina raced up, breathless, Corazón prickling at her heels. "I heard there was a Gast in my storeroom, and I—" She took in the scene, and the mess. "Well, looks like you have it well handled!"

"I can't thank you enough for your help," Ina said, holding Jenie's hands in hers, in the way that women do. They stood together on the bank leading up to the docks, Corazón and Tolliver frolicking nearby. The Turnipig was running fast to escape the long pounces of the Nopaleón, using up almost as much energy as he would've driving the Florapede. But he deserved it, regardless.

"Oh, you're welcome," Jenie replied, smiling. "I'm glad we were in the right place at the right time to help out." She turned to the Gobblin standing nearby, doing his best to look comfortable in a fresh-pressed shirt and necktie. "Really Wolper, you're the one who deserves the thanks. If you hadn't gotten that fire going so quickly, we might not've made it."

"Hah," Wolper said, looking at the ground. "I was just cooking my supper and needed my daily ration. I should not be called any sort of hero..." He pulled on the shiny deputy badge pinned to his shirt, as if he could get it to stop contradicting his words.

Ina smiled down at him. "You will have plenty of chances to prove that, I think. Our town's Gastrologer is getting much too old to be chasing after Gasts. You can help me with the shop in the mornings, then help the sheriff patrol in the evenings." Wolper didn't seem too excited about holding down a job, which made Jenie laugh a little.

A loud bell sounded, Jenie turned to see flags waving on the deck of the boat. "Well, that's my cue. Thank you all again so much!" Tolliver was at her side before she even called for him, Ina's Nopaleón resuming his protective position too. The two travelers made their way to the end of the dock and up the gangplank, past the team of Oax tied up to the round posts that looked like mill wheels.

"See, Tolliver, this boat is just like the Florapede, except on the water. They push those columns, which drive the paddle wheels on the sides. That way, we don't have to worry about slow winds or choppy waves."

Tolliver looked up at an Oax with red leaves on his brow, grunting his thanks for the larger beast's earlier kindness. Everyone had their part to play in the big story.

Not long after that, Jenie was waving toward her new friends over the rail, Tolliver sticking his snout through the lower ropes. "We'll have to stop in again on the way back. That drinking chocolate was delicious. I think Father might like it too..."

Tolliver nudged against her knees. She always needed some comfort when she got wistful like this. Gazing out at the horizon, at whatever tomorrow might bring. Wistful, but always hopeful.

The music and sounds in this production are the work of many talented artists. You can find most of them on this playlist.

Many of the songs were composed by Joel Studler. They appear under the Game Asset Bundle License.

Jenie’s Theme is by Harvey Carman, appearing under the CC BY 4.0 license.

Other music is by JDB Artist, appearing under the CC BY 3.0 license.

The sound effects are all provided under the Pixabay license. You can find them at this collection.