I wouldn't need to bring anything with me, since I would be gone for just a short while. I felt almost exposed without carrying my backpack of belongings as I had just done last night when arriving here, but I disregarded that feeling and peeled back the door of the tent to head outside. The sun beamed over the light-kissed land from the cloudless blue sky as a passing breeze rolled across and rustled the short grass. Small clumps of animals engaged in unbothered conversation from various points in the campsite as I looked around to find the tents I had wandered past last night to reach mine now bathed in the gentle light of morning.

I stood in the blob of a shadow from the leaves of the tree next to my own tent to recollect myself. This is fine. I am fine. How bad could it have been, anyway? All I had to do was locate the building while following the instructions that burned into my mind, walk in, remain polite and professional, and ask the first animal I saw if the business was hiring. I might not have even been meeting with Tom today if he had a large group working behind him as he ran the business, which Rosie had implied the last time we spoke. As long as I didn't blank out, stumble over my words, and that whoever I posed the question to was friendly, then I could do this.

I moved forward through the campsite with a churning stomach and a chest stirring with fearful anticipation. No matter how many times I practiced my deep breathing exercise to calm myself, inhaling deeply each time and exhaling with intention to dispel my negative energy from my body, my mind throbbed with the acknowledgment that was enough to turn anyone's stomach: My entire future depended on this moment right here. I had to make this count, and in the fast-paced strategy of responding to life as it came, I worried that I wouldn't make a difference in time. I didn't have the faintest clue what I was going to do. I just had to do it.

A team of animals was working on stacking trays on the end of an elongated wooden table as I reached the start of the campsite. That must have been from breakfast, meaning I had missed it anyway. I hardly spent a thought on this and kept on moving, numbly following a path of grass and trees as I started off on my journey, and in the terror of the situation, I found myself longing for all of this to be over and done with so that I could relax. I longed for something a little more simple, a time when I didn't feel the jitters of making a change, and my thoughts flicked back to my arrival on the plane last night. Maybe I longed to relive that simple moment another time.

It was the final landing of the plane that woke me. The impact of the wheels touching down on the ground again and the screech that came with it jolted me from sleep, leaving me disoriented for a moment before the fact of my situation and my surroundings sunk in again. The very first thing that I was able to see was that the cabin of the plane was dark, shadows overtaking the space in a dimness that I hadn't seen when the plane had first taken off, and small lights scattered colorfully across the ceiling sliced through the darkness. A glance around the cabin allowed me to see the small number of other passengers also casting looks around the space in the flight's arrival, and a round of announcements that I could only partially turn my attention towards in my half-asleep state confirmed this fact and that it was just about two in the morning.

I could manage to catch the shuffling sounds from the other passengers preparing to leave the plane as it came to a steady halt, but I was slowly sinking into a heavy sense of drowsiness again, eyelids drooping to close for just a few minutes more and limbs aching for a good stretch. After its slow movement working towards a complete stop, the plane eventually ceased in motion and everything was still for a moment before overhead lights flooded the space, sending my paw flying to cover my sore eyes.

The other passengers were already gathering up their belongings to clear out from the plane, and so I knew that it was time for me to do the same. I took hold of the seat in front of me to pull myself to my feet, a drowsy weakness draining through me from the first few minutes of my sudden consciousness, and inched my way into the aisle to retrieve my tall backpack from the compartment above my head. It had been too bulky for me to be able to store it at my feet, so I had tossed it up into the compartment in the empty space and had taken my seat for the flight.

I eased my backpack down from the overhead compartment, securing it to my shoulders as I stepped back into the row of seats to follow the other animals out. Movement crept through the cabin as the line of animals shuffled forwards, making progress towards the exit of the plane, and I tried to blink away the drowsiness that still clung to my eyes. I joined the line at the end, moving step by slow step, and found myself in the subtle glow of the airport building when reality sunk in again.

At that point, the plan was completely thrown up into the air. Hurling myself into plans without providing a foundation of thought to support it was a habit I'd trapped myself in over the years with my eager pursuit to make a difference in life. My eyes shifted along the animals departing in front of me, trusting that they knew what they were doing more than I did and leaning on the reliability of perception, and saw them clearing out from the main airport doors. I gripped the straps of my backpack and followed as if the group was mine to begin with.

The darkness sang with the sounds of the night. The buzz of crickets chirping surrounded me as the silhouettes of the animals who had left the airport with me broke through the sensation with crunching footsteps over the dry grass. The dimness weighed on my droopy eyelids, and though I rubbed them, I couldn't quite wake myself up the entire way. It was only several paces into the walk that it occurred to me that the group was splitting off into two groups—One becoming a large cluster to head off on the left while a much slimmer group descended the hill ahead of me—And by a quick assessment, my first guess was that the smaller group was a group in themselves, given the way they drifted close to one another. I found myself straying along with the group moving towards the left.

I couldn't confidently tell whether the walk lasted a lifetime or a moment. Once I blinked, it had been nothing but a drowsy blur, almost like I had fallen asleep while walking and gone into autopilot mode. I stumbled along the gravelly path at the tail end of the assemblage of silhouettes, clenching my teeth at every drop of ice-like breezes, and the only thought that sat in my mind was curling up and going to sleep. At some point, I wandered past a wooden sign protruding from the damp ground directing the group to the upcoming campsite, and then we gathered at a stop.

A voice broke through the dimness of the night, asking questions and speaking in an instructing tone. Either we'd arrived at the campsite or we'd just reached another stop on the way there. I held my paws against my eyes, stealing the opportunity for what could barely have been called a nap, and the sound of shuffling footsteps beckoned me forward in the group. It seemed that everyone would have rathered to go before the other, but I couldn't complain. I just wanted to sleep.

The group cleared out one by one as animals were slowly allowed entrance. With less congestion, I could really sweep my gaze throughout the area and visually explore the campsite before me, pointed tents drowned in darkness scattered throughout a large patch of grass. The voice at the front belonged to a deer a decent chunk shorter than me in a blue uniform, gripping a long clipboard and jotting down notes after asking animals for tent preferences and assigning them a number. Once the last animal had slipped out of the assignment area, I was next to receive my tent.

"Do you have any preferences for your tent?" the deer asked me, still scribbling on the clipboard from the previous animal. I strained to keep their words from jumbling in my mind from the exhaustion that clouded my consciousness. "That means location, neighbors, or anything else you'd like to mention."

"No," I murmured, running my paws over my tired face to keep myself awake.

The deer nodded, rushing a separate note higher up on the clipboard. "Tent number fifteen in the back, please," they instructed, sending a brief gesture towards the campsite behind them before they returned to the note they were taking.

The rustling of animals settling in their tents accompanied me on my shuffle towards the back of the campsite. My eyes scoured the surfaces of the tent, finding numbers as high as thirty-five as I kept an eye out for my own. What was it again? It was a teen number, that part stuck in my memory. I couldn't dig deep enough in my memory for which number I had been assigned before I came across the number fifteen plastered along the side of a tent far in the back with the company of a thick tree beside it when I remembered quite suddenly that this was where I was meant to live.

The fabric of the bottom of the tent was smooth and cool as I crawled on my paws and knees to begin unpacking. My paws fumbled, prying my tightly-rolled emerald sleeping bag from inside my backpack, before I raised my head from my arms after resting them on top of the bag after jolting myself back to reality from dozing off sitting up. All I had to do was set up my sleeping bag and I supposed I could leave any other unpacking to the morning. I unrolled my sleeping bag on the thin fabric as the only thing that lifted me from the bare ground and didn't waste a moment before climbing in to fall asleep, but another task that I had created for myself on the plane that had been chucked from my mind until now sent me up again.

Unpacking the morning after might have been manageable, but I absolutely couldn't begin the day without some kind of plan. The memory was vague when my eyes opened in the morning, but before I could allow myself to settle in for the night, I located my notebook from inside my backpack and flipped to the first clean page to scribble down a list of things to do once I got up. The words were already sinking from my memory as I tucked the notebook under my pillow, a sleepy attempt to reach for good luck, and drifted off to sleep.

Nervous tingles shooting through my stomach woke me in the morning. Shortly before I had woken up and was still absorbed in dreams, the fateful talk with Tom Nook that haunted the coming morning crept into the storyline somehow, flooding me with reminders of what was to come today. For whatever reason, my mind had decided to torture me with all of the possible ways that the event would go wrong, from leaving to find that the building I had been directed to didn't actually exist to meeting Mr. Nook in person only for him to swiftly turn me away, not to mention there were too many ways that could happen as well. I didn't know who he was or what he was like, so my brain filled him in with the appearance of Digby—That I didn't realize until I awoke and didn't quite understand completely either—And with the personality of someone highly critical who didn't give so much as a thought towards me. And just like that, I was torn from sleep with a stomach-wrenching thought overtaking my mind—Why did I take such crucial instructions and abandon everything I ever knew for an animal I'd known for two seconds?

Because it was the only shot I had at becoming who I wanted to be, the first opportunity that had arisen in years. I'd pursued jobs before, but it was different now. This one really meant something. And the only way I could grab hold of that opportunity was if I went for it without room for second thoughts.

Golden sunlight bled down the walls of my tent. It wasn't clear what time I had managed to break free from sleep, but it appeared to be sometime at the start of the morning, exactly when I'd hoped to get up. Familiarity flickered in the back of my mind to open my eyes and discover myself curled up in a sleeping bag along the side of a tent with the faint hum of chatter outside. It wasn't the first time I made my home in a tent.

I eased myself up to a seated position, running my paws through my light bangs to push them back from my face. As much as I tried to gulp down the sensation, my stomach had erupted into tiny flutters. What was I going to do? After creating and recreating so many unpleasant outcomes, I simply couldn't see myself physically leaving to find the building for the risk that one of them would come true. My thoughts leaped from dream to dream as my mind spun to keep them all straight. With every possibility of a bad outcome comes the possibility of a good outcome, I reminded myself and began to untangle myself from the sleeping bag.

My notebook was still tucked under my pillow where I had left it the night before. I reached under the pillow to withdraw it and check back on the plan I had made for myself last night, peeling open the book to the folded corner to remind myself what it was that I had written in the final moments of drowsiness that I had been awake.

1 - Unpack belongings

2 - Find breakfast

3 - Leave to find building

Notes to remember:

Act confident

Admit nervousness if necessary

Ask questions

Note- You can only succeed if you give it your all

Given the flutters in my stomach, it wasn't likely that I would force down some food for breakfast. As for unpacking, I wasn't certain how much time I could have even allowed myself before I would need to set off on my journey. If I could at least manage to cram every note I'd made into my head when requesting an interview, then maybe I could keep from making a complete fool of myself in the face of destiny.

I recited my notes in my head as I discarded my notebook beside my pillow again, unpacking my backpack until all of my belongings were strewn across the edge of the tent. I chucked my flattened backpack down into the corner where my pillow could hide it, hastily combing through my hair with my claws until it was smooth like I had brushed it before now, and picked through the slim set of clothes I had brought for something that could have been considered professional, even if it was all at a stretch. I settled on a forest green skirt that fell a couple inches above my knees, a white shirt with a sunny-yellow cardigan to rest on top of it, and a red bow tied into the neck of my shirt just for that extra touch. I had to work with what I had—Homelessness wasn't exactly the ideal appearance for walking in looking for a job.

I wouldn't need to bring anything with me, since I would be gone for just a short while. I felt almost exposed without carrying my backpack of belongings as I had just done last night when arriving here, but I disregarded that feeling and peeled back the door of the tent to head outside. The sun beamed over the light-kissed land from the cloudless blue sky as a passing breeze rolled across and rustled the short grass. Small clumps of animals engaged in unbothered conversation from various points in the campsite as I looked around to find the tents I had wandered past last night to reach mine now bathed in the gentle light of morning.

I stood in the blob of a shadow from the leaves of the tree next to my own tent to recollect myself. This is fine. I am fine. How bad could it have been, anyway? All I had to do was locate the building while following the instructions that burned into my mind, walk in, remain polite and professional, and ask the first animal I saw if the business was hiring. I might not have even been meeting with Tom today if he had a large group working behind him as he ran the business, which Rosie had implied the last time we spoke. As long as I didn't blank out, stumble over my words, and that whoever I posed the question to was friendly, then I could do this.

I moved forward through the campsite with a churning stomach and a chest stirring with fearful anticipation. No matter how many times I practiced my deep breathing exercise to calm myself, inhaling deeply each time and exhaling with intention to dispel my negative energy from my body, my mind throbbed with the acknowledgment that was enough to turn anyone's stomach: My entire future depended on this moment right here. I had to make this count, and in the fast-paced strategy of responding to life as it came, I worried that I wouldn't make a difference in time. I didn't have the faintest clue what I was going to do. I just had to do it.

A team of animals was working on stacking trays on the end of an elongated wooden table as I reached the start of the campsite. That must have been from breakfast, meaning I had missed it anyway. I hardly spent a thought on this and kept on moving, numbly following a path of grass and trees as I started off on my journey, and in the terror of the situation, I found myself longing for all of this to be over and done with so that I could relax. I longed for something a little more simple, a time when I didn't feel the jitters of making a change, and my thoughts flicked back to my arrival on the plane last night. Maybe I longed to relive that simple moment another time.

I didn't have the time to waste my thoughts on what was in the past. I needed to focus on my future, the events that lay waiting to unfold before me, and figure out how I would form them into existence. It was only myself and the anxiety drilling through my body to accompany me as I went on my way, advancing from grass paths to paved paths to what appeared to be some kind of a small town. I followed the path etched into my mind to continue on to the building that would determine my fate, but I passed by no one as I shuffled along. What a lonely place, I thought to myself and let my ever-moving steps carry me onward to my destination.

And just like that, before the truth had even had a chance to thoroughly sink in yet, I'd arrived at the door. My gaze traveled along the wall that stood before me, taking in every inch of the place before I would go inside. It didn't seem much like a bustling place, with no movement going to and from the building, and while I had been expecting some kind of tall and silver building with high professionalism, this was not what I had imagined. It was a notably short building that I could nearly call underdeveloped with a window display of small items and tools and a painted sign above the door that read "Nook's Cranny". It wasn't a bank at all. It was a tiny shop.

My eyebrows had begun to creep together. It was definitely the right place, given the name, but it wasn't exactly what Rosie had described would be waiting for me. Either I'd just been faked out, or this guy had a long line of hard work in front of him. Still, I couldn't deny the sort of homey feel radiating from the sight of the cozy shop—Whether it be a shop or some kind of bank in progress—As I reached up and gave the door a firm knock.

My name is Isabelle. I've been looking for work and was referred to your business. I was just wondering if you're hiring. I silently rehearsed my next words in my mind, fidgeting with my paws as I waited to be greeted at the door. Well, at least some sign that someone was there at all, but there was nothing. No shuffling footsteps to reach the door, no opening of the door and a face looking into mine. Yeah, I'd most likely been faked out.

The door rattled faintly on its hinges as I knocked a second time, more aggressively. With the size of the shop, someone was bound to have heard it. Sure enough, just seconds after I had tried again, I caught the distant sound of someone approaching from inside the shop and then slowly, the door eased open to reveal a brown tanuki a few inches taller than myself in nothing but a blue apron. He was most definitely older than me, perhaps somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. His deep blue eyes were laced with tiredness and questions, observing me in the doorway before he spoke.

"Yes?" the tanuki prompted, but his voice was lowered in a whisper. Like he didn't want anyone to know that he was there. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you Tom Nook?" I began, but at the sound of my voice not lowered like his, I was quickly shushed into silence. Um. The rudeness instantly threw me for a loop as my eyes felt to burn through him in disbelief.

The tanuki tossed an uneasy glance back over his shoulder at something in the room—Quite suspicious, I would say—Before he seemed to relax and turned back to me. This was most certainly one of the strangest encounters I'd had in my work pursuit as of late.

"Yes, that's me," the tanuki whispered. "What can I do for you?"

Having no other choice, I dropped my voice as well. "I've been searching for some kind of work for a couple years now and someone directed me to you," I murmured softly. "They told me you might be able to help me. Is that true?"

Confusion was gradually creeping over Tom's face. He didn't have a clue what I was talking about. "They told you I could help you?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I answered, but I couldn't help jumping to defend my words. This was what I had been told, and I was not about to be taken for an idiot. "They said you were trying to start up a sort of small business or something like that. They implied that you might give me a job interview if I came by."

"Oh," Tom mumbled, but by the lingering weary expression sinking into his face, I could tell that he hadn't been prepared to deal with this. He seemed to be considering the situation, eyes darting back into the room as if the solution was there, and then he met my gaze with the abruptness of an answer. "Well... I suppose you should come in, then. Try to be as quiet as you can, please."

Suspicious. "Oh, okay. Why is that?" I whispered.

"I've just put my kids down for a nap," Tom told me. "They tend to get fussy if they wake up too early."

Oh. So he had a reason to whisper and be quiet. I supposed that made a bit more sense than trying not to be seen, especially since I'd been instructed directly to come here. The weight on my shoulders at the idea of what I could have been getting myself into lifted a little bit.

Everything was going well so far. I think, I added to myself, following Tom into the building as he left the doorway and moved into the room without a sound. Sunlight was plastered across the floor as two tables sat in different places in the room as well as a wide counter in the corner that must have once been a front desk. In the middle of the counter, two young tanukis of what seemed to be toddler age curled up against one another in undisturbed rest. We hadn't woken them up after all.

"I'll go get us some chairs," Tom offered in a soft murmur, jolting me back to reality. He had started off towards a door next to the counter, casting a careful glance over the twins on his way.

"Okay," I said, but he hadn't heard me as he eased his way through the next door and disappeared into another room.

The only sound to break the silence was the shuffling of Tom retrieving chairs in the other room as I waited for instructions. It was as if my feet were glued to the floor, hesitant to move another inch until I was told to. The faint sound of shifted movement caught my attention to find that the little twins had begun to stir, slightly breaking out of sleep without prompt, but only to settle down again.

The door at the counter was pushed open again as Tom inched back into the room, carrying a chair under each arm, alerting the twins as they fumbled in their awakening. The sound was enough to achieve Tom's attention as he took a glimpse in their direction, realizing that they had woken up, and quickened his pace to transport the chairs to one of the tables. After carefully arranging the chairs to face each other at the round table as the two tanukis began to audibly foss, he'd hastily set off again towards the little ones, bending over them to console them.

Was I supposed to help? What was I supposed to do? I could only watch as Tom struggled to soothe the children, only managing to quiet one of the two in the first couple of minutes of his attempt while the other went on in fussing. Once the first tanuki went quiet, Tom appeared to have given up trying to get the other to do the same, picking him up to hold him securely in his arms as he walked off towards the table he had set up and leaving the now sleeping tanuki behind.

Tom lowered himself into the seat that faced the door, still holding his child close to him, and looked at me near the door. "You can come sit down now, if you want," he said.

I wasn't entirely certain whether I was still meant to lower my voice with one of the twins already awake. "Oh, okay," I said, settling for an awkward volume between speaking and murmuring as I walked forward, seating myself in the last available chair, and Tom's eyes followed me every step of the way.

"What were you hoping to get out of this meeting?" Tom asked me once I had settled in my seat, meeting his gaze again and folding my paws in my lap in front of me to perform professionalism. "Funding? Referrals?"

"I don't know," I admitted. Rosie hadn't exactly set me off with clear instructions, I was realizing. "I didn't get much information on this."

"Well, I'm not sure how much I'd be able to help you if you don't know what you need," Tom told me.

Don't tell me I was already being turned away so soon. "Okay," I said, memories resurfacing of the notes I had prepared for myself last night. Act confident, you can only succeed if you give it your all, or whatever it said. I was here for an interview and I had to fight for that. "Are there any openings for working here with you? Is there a potential option for a job interview or something?"

"Work here?" Tom repeated. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting me to say such a thing. He really hadn't gotten much help. "With me?"

"Well, maybe," I replied. "I figured you wouldn't consider hiring me without some kind of interview, but I'd like to try and apply for a job if I can."

Tom didn't have an answer at first. I could almost see the idea sinking in as he contemplated the situation. When he took a breath to speak, I was nearly on the edge of my seat for an answer.

"All right," Tom said at last, adding, "But I'll need some time to write up some interview questions. Are you able to come back again tomorrow morning?"

Well, I technically had all the time in the world. "Yeah, I can do that," I promised. "When should I be here?"

"Well, my store opens at eight in the morning, so no earlier than then," Tom instructed. "You can stop by at any time during the day until eleven at night when I close. I should have those questions written up for you by then."

And with that, version two of my plan was born. With that, I was hurled right back into the game of success, teaching myself how to fight for my place in life. Having my request for an interview accepted was phase one. It was time to move on to phase two: Making my mark.

I took the walk back to the campsite after my meeting with Tom with ideas for tomorrow already spinning through my mind. If I were to have an interview I could look back on and be satisfied with, I'd have to do everything I could to help prepare myself beforehand. That included a decent breakfast, something I'd skipped this morning. I put in a request to be woken up at eight o'clock and awoke in the morning to a knock on my tent door and a voice telling me it was eight in the morning.

I climbed drowsily out of my tent in the morning to find only a few animals up and about for the day. Trays of food items for breakfast were laid out across the table I had seen at the front of the campsite, still packed full with the few animals that were actually up at this point. I grabbed a couple of blueberry muffins for breakfast, sat with the slowly growing group on log seats around a heap of charred wood that must have held a fire last night, and took my time eating. I had until eleven at night to show up.

With breakfast done with, I set off back towards the shop. The directions I had taught myself served a vague recollection in my mind, leading myself forward both by the memory and former instruction. Puffy clouds caressed the pale blue sky and the sun peeked from behind them when I arrived, pushing open the door of the shop to enter my interview.

I emerged into the room to find Tom already at work, inching around one of the tables to arrange the display that sat upon it while holding one of the baby tanukis in his arm. The sound of the door swinging open announced my arrival, and Tom paused in his decorating to spare me a glance.

"Good morning," Tom greeted me. The subtle notes of exhaustion I had seen yesterday seemed to stick to his face even now. "Welcome back."

"Good morning," I greeted in response, coming to a stop as the door fell shut behind me.

"If you give me just a few minutes, I can clear one of these tables for us to meet at," Tom offered, briefly examining the table he had just set up before he set off towards the second one, presumably to clear it.

Tom reached the table, using his free paw to clear a space from the items that were previously positioned on it. There was something sort of tired in his movements, as well, I noticed. The nervous tingles for the interview ahead had begun to melt away in the lack of demand in his presence. Having cleared away the items on the table, leaving an empty space for us to meet, he gently set the little tanuki down onto the table and started off towards the storage room where he had retrieved the chairs.

The tanuki, sitting on the table where Tom had put him, watched me. Curiosity shimmered in his wide eyes and he almost seemed to be waiting for me to realize that he was looking at me, because when the fact did occur, he offered a timid and quiet greeting.

"Hi," the tanuki murmured shyly.

"Hello," I answered hesitantly. I couldn't reach far back enough into my memory for the last time I looked after a child—How were you even supposed to talk to the thing? My response must have been satisfactory, though, as the tanuki said nothing more and continued to stare questioningly.

Tom pushed his way through the door again, carrying a chair under each arm as he had done yesterday. He assembled the chairs in the same formation as the baby tanuki forgot about my presence to watch him instead, and he reclaimed his seat to begin the meeting.

"Take a seat, but watch your step," Tom warned, easing his child up from the table to hold him on his lap instead. "The other twin was crawling around on the floor a little while ago and I don't want you accidentally stepping on him."

I hadn't even realized that the second tanuki was out in the first room. "Oh," I said, quickly scouring the floor at my feet to locate him, but he was nowhere to be seen. At least I wouldn't hurt him by accident during the interview.

Tom waited patiently until I had crossed the room to the table and settled into my seat before he spoke. "Thank you," he said. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Yeah," I said.

"All right." Tom reached out with his free paw to lay a folded sheet of paper out onto the table to glance over, unfolding it and smoothing it out. I saw his eyes dart to read the text on the paper, analyzing it for a stretch of several seconds before he looked at me. "How did you hear about this job?"

"Someone in a neighborhood I used to live in had heard of you and recommended that I apply for a job, since I was searching for work," I explained. The words used to felt unusually foreign as I spoke them aloud. Strangely, I hadn't yet had the time to process that it was no longer my home after living there for years until now, but maybe that was because everything had changed so abruptly.

"What in particular did they say to you that intrigued you to pursue this job?" Tom inquired.

Rosie's face the color of fresh blueberries floated through my memory, her voice resurfacing. She had mentioned his ambitions and let me know that he would need a lot of help trying to fulfill his ambitions and something within me had stirred to life with the urge to take the opportunity to help. Not only that, but it had been just the thing to push me forward into the future I longed for—The only thing, that was.

"I don't know," I admitted. "She didn't even really know all that much about you. I guess something about you and what you're doing gave me a sort of motivation."

"Okay," Tom replied. His gaze lingered on me for just a few seconds longer before he tore it from mine to study the sheet of paper in front of him. "What are some of the main reasons you're interested in pursuing this type of work?"

"I was really hoping that this would be my opportunity to finally get somewhere in this world. Somewhere significant I can be proud of," I confessed. I could still feel Tom's gaze locked upon me as I spoke, so my eyes explored the surface of the table in front of me. "That sounds silly. I know. But it's the truth."

Tom didn't answer. He was waiting for me to say more. After the silence grew for several seconds, I found more words leaping to my tongue to keep on going.

"I think that's something I've wanted my entire life but didn't get the chance to move forward until now," I went on. "I didn't want that to go to waste."

"I see," Tom said. I wasn't completely certain whether it was a good I see or a bad I see.

"So, that's why I wanted to apply," I concluded. "That's my reasoning."

Tom appeared to be considering my answer for a few moments before he finally spoke up. "I think that's some very good reasoning," he told me. Well, that was a good sign.

Tom dropped his gaze, scanning the contents of the sheet of paper in front of him, and read out the next question on the list.

"What are some of your strengths in the workplace?" Tom inquired.

"I've never had a job before, so I can't really say for sure," I confessed. "But some skills that I can bring are that I know how to work hard and that I will always do my best work."

The consideration was still rolling in Tom's tired eyes. Whatever I was doing, I was getting somewhere. The reminder that I had managed to work with my own time to bring myself here flickered back to attention. That was definitely something that could boost me forward.

"I also believe that I've developed a good sense of time management," I added.

"I see," Tom said again, reviewing his list another time to proceed with the interview when he had pulled all of the known answers out of me. "What do you think some of your struggles would be in the workplace?"

My mind flashed back to the two-year period I'd just spent searching and failing to find a job for myself. I had pushed myself to great lengths just to prove myself but something still carried me forward even today. Mom had once made a casual comment amongst light laughter about how stubborn I was, so maybe that was it.

"I accidentally overwork myself and then I get burned out, I guess you could say," I described. Tom gave a slight nod at this. "Does that make sense? I feel like that doesn't really make sense."

"Oh, that makes a lot of sense, yes," Tom assured me.

The next time that Tom glanced towards the sheet of paper for the next interview question to read aloud, he had begun to make his way closer to the bottom of the paper. We must have been slowly reaching the end. I couldn't help wondering if I was making good progress or if I'd wrecked everything somewhere along the way as I sat waiting for my next question.

"Do you have reliable transportation to this location if I do hire you?" Tom read aloud.

"I'd probably just walk. That's how I've been getting here the past couple of days," I explained.

A touch of worry flicked across Tom's face at this response as he raised his head to look at me, but it was gone just as quickly as I had noticed it. "Really?" he said. "How long is the walk?"

I contemplated the journey that I had followed to reach the shop. "Just about half an hour or so," I estimated at last. "It's not that far."

An unusual warmth for the end of February was creeping through the room, likely from the touch of sunlight that danced along the surfaces. As Tom glimpsed at the bottom of the paper, observing as if burning the question into his memory, it was then that it occurred to me that I was no longer nervous. Something about the gentle, weary energy that Tom provided seemed to sit well with me.

"Do you have any additional questions for me?" Tom asked, still scanning through the sheet. That definitely sounded like we were wrapping up somewhat.

"No, I don't think so," I said.

"I see." Tom lifted his head, looking at me from across the table. "Do you have a way I can contact you?"

The first campsite that I'd come to stay at had a front office for campsite needs, where I'd met Katie the resourceful kitten, and provided a phone which I'd used to contact Digby. They had been courteous enough to let campsite visitors know beforehand of all of the services they would provide, and I assumed that any other campsite I would stay at would be the same. I'd heard absolutely nothing from my campsite now.

"No," I replied. "Not currently."

"Well... That's a bit of a problem, then," Tom admitted hesitantly. "How can I reach out to you if I decide for or against the idea of hiring you?"

My mind reeled to come up with an idea. I couldn't be turned away after all of the progress I'd made for the first half of the interview. Tom hadn't needed to contact me to come back the next day; that was something we had arranged the day before. We had worked things out in person. Surely that strategy could go on.

"Should I come back another day for updates?" I suggested.

Tom snuck a glance to the wall at my left, holding it there for several seconds. I followed his gaze to locate a clock positioned high on the wall, one that read just a hint before ten thirty. He read the clock for a few seconds more before he brought his attention back to me.

"Can you come back again tomorrow?" Tom requested. The knots in my stomach loosened. So it wasn't lost. "I should be ready by then."

. . .

Tom had requested that I come back to the building the very next day at noon. From there, he would give me the answer I had been looking for for the past three days. And that was it. I was finally going to receive the answer of whether or not success was mine for the first time in my search. Once I would walk through those doors again, I wouldn't leave again without knowing which direction my future was about to take.

Throughout the afternoon on the day before, I'd begun to consider both ends of the conclusion. Either I'd suddenly find myself working my very first job and earn the opportunity to forge my path in life or would continue to have nothing. I had nothing left to lose anymore. What was I even meant to do if I didn't get this job? I couldn't waste my time jumping from home to home in a blind grab at something I couldn't quite reach. I would have to scrape together the Bells that I had and find a way back to my first home, to live under my parents' roof again as I had for the first seventeen years of my life. But that would have meant living with Digby again. After the fight we'd shared over the phone a week ago, I could only see it ending in chaos.

I tossed and turned in my sleeping bag that night. My mind was already wrestling with the unpredictability of my near future, keeping it busy and blocking me from sleep. The sounds of chirping crickets and occasional breezes skimming off the walls of the tent accompanied me for hours into the night. When I did drift off to sleep, the icy chill in the air had already managed to sink in, leaving me shivering in my sleeping bag with my arms wound around myself to sustain any kind of heat.

I arose from sleep no later than nine o'clock in the morning but didn't set off to leave until eleven thirty, knowing that would leave me enough time to arrive right around twelve. The idea that Tom had already decided on my fate was enough to cloud my mindspace for the entire walk back to the shop. I could have been walking into triumph or downfall and I could never know until it happened.

I pushed my way through the doorway with plans of politely greeting Tom at the door but was instantly rattled to find that he wasn't alone. He was seated at the table where he had met with me for the past couple of days, but in the seat that I had occupied instead sat a brown owl whose face I couldn't see, as his back was to me. Tom had engaged in conversation with him and didn't seem quite ready to close up the discussion, so I stood near the door to wait for my turn.

It was minutes later that my presence was noted, first by the owl as he twisted in his seat to glance back at me, and then by Tom.

"Welcome back," Tom greeted me, easing himself up from the table. "I'll be ready to speak with you in just a minute."

"Oh, okay," I replied.

The owl tore his focus from me at the door to climb up from his seat, offering a few more hushed words with Tom before he started off swiftly towards the door behind me. He only spared me a brief glance on his way before he swept past me and took his departure through the doorway.

Tom lowered himself back into a seat, settling and looking at me across the room. "Please take a seat," he invited.

The anticipation was nearly electrifying now. I claimed the seat where the owl had just seated himself moments ago, shifting into a comfortable seat.

"I've been giving some thought to our meeting yesterday," Tom declared after I had settled. "After some thought in regards to the answers you gave during the interview, I've decided that I'm going to hire you as part of my staff at this shop."

The double take that the statement provoked was so jarring that my heart dropped into my stomach. In a split second, it was like my entire future had been laid out for me. In lacking it for years up until this point, to hear the words of acceptance for once flung open my eyes to the possibilities that the world had to offer me. I nearly allowed my mouth to fall open with the initial shock that washed over me before I remembered that it wasn't professional and restrained myself instead.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, I think you would be a good fit for this job," Tom informed me.

The words rang through my ears. A violent shake had found its way to my paws and my heart hammered in my chest. Adrenaline had begun to shoot through me like a river of cold water, rushing down my spine in distinct chills. I actually did it. For the first time in my life, I did it.

"Oh, um..." I stumbled over my words, absorbed in the sensation of my own excitement. "Well, I really wasn't expecting to hear that."

"You weren't?" Tom asked patiently. "Did you have a reason to believe that I shouldn't hire you?"

"No, it's just... This is the first time I'm hearing good news." The tremble in my paws had managed to enter my voice as well. The search, at last, was over. "But I promise that I'm going to work hard and I won't let you down."