It's crazy how a day might start out like an average day and yet end so differently. As difficult as it was to leave the paradise of Dove's Cove, leaving a town that I had just arrived in yesterday wasn't any easier. But for a family that's always on the move, it's nothing out of the ordinary. My parents completely finished picking out all their best items and could barely contain their excitement, even though they were leaving me to fend for myself. It wasn't exactly comforting to watch the seashore grow further and further away; the broad ocean looked like a small lake by the time we were well on our way up by the mountains While it wasn't the steepest in comparison to other roads, the path was quite old, and the bumps and dips caused some very messy handwriting, as well as even more messy situations.

                                                                                ~*~

         "It's okay to be nervous about doing things on your own, but I'm telling you it'll be quite alright. You've gone trading with us plenty of times before!" my mother insisted. But her confident, practical opinions drowned out as I continued to write down good conversation starters that would hopefully help in selling the most trinkets at the market. While I debated between using "lady" or "miss," a harsh bump made me to look up from my journal.

         "Slow your horses!" A voice yelled. Peeking out from the cart, I saw eight small men running at full speed. They appeared to be very tall with dark helmets, until I realized that the dark helmets were actually giant pick axes hovering dangerously over their heads.

         "They look like dwarves. But also thieves," I added.

         My father grimaced. "Even if we do outrun them, the horses won't be able to keep traveling like this. We're going to have to stop." I quickly looked back. To my relief, they were still running. Some were huffing and puffing from lack of air. The particularly shorter ones almost tripped over their own axes. My father signaled the horses and pulled the cart to a slow stop. At some point, I realized that my mother was not yelling at me with her strained voice, so I pushed back the curtains to where she was sitting. To my surprise, she was completely engrossed in knitting. Her eyes didn't even leave the lavender scarf as the dwarves caught up to us. 

         Barely reaching the middle of the cart, they stretched their necks to appear as tall as they could. "Give us your best goods or we will...have to resort to some stabbing," they said, in between heavy breaths. The one with the curly green beard attempted to swing his axe in our faces, but decided to drop it gently on the ground instead. Assuming that we would go about our usual method of conduct when dealing with thieves, I looked around for some possible weapons. Surely my parents would signal me to create a distraction. But my mother instead was oddly still smiling. Calmly placing her yarn project aside, her hands swiftly reached for my neck...and my necklace.

         "Silly pigs, pair of wings, cannot fly, but things you fix. Listen closely to my spell, and angry souls can change as well." she whispered. The winged things started to flicker about as a soft sound of snorts and giggles playfully echoed in the air. Immediately the dwarves' faces changed. The wrinkles in their bushy eyebrows relaxed, and their frowns turned into pleasant smiles, almost as if a lovely summer breeze had just wafted over them. Putting down their weapons, they began scratching their heads in confusion.

         "What in the world is going on…" I said. I looked to my mother for an explanation, but a mischievous smile glowed on her face as she faced the dwarves.

         "It's a pity, we were going to sell these items to those snobby lords and ladies in the royal court, but perhaps they will do you better than those muggers out there," she said to them. And at that moment, I knew it was all over. Holding my breath, I waited for the dwarves to attack, punishing us for my mother's poorly done accent. But instead, their eyes grew wide with excitement. With great efficiency, she ended up persuading them to buy eight small angel charms for extra luck and some squirrel skin sacks for wine.

         "Grateful for your business, it's a hard industry to break out here. Why, just a few days ago that rascal Gorum Bakerson went and stole all my loot, and now I've got to attack more carriages for money! You've got to be careful when looting," the head thief sighed. His thick, orange beard flowed past his earthy brown tunic as his pot belly pushed against the buttons on his shirt. Flipping his beard over his shoulder, he cheerfully shook hands with my parents.  

         "The thieving business is a hard one. It makes our jobs much more exiting as well," my father sympathized as he patted the dwarf's shoulder. I covered my mouth to keep my jaw from dropping as they paid and went their way. Just in case they wanted to come back and raid us, my eyes did not leave the back of the cart until their overgrown beards and huge axes were out of sight. I yelped as I felt a jolt of pain in my arm. It was my mother's knitting needle.

         "It's not nice to stare. After all, thieves are people, too...or in this case, dwarves," she chastised. My dad started humming a relaxed tune as the horses started moving.

                                                                                          ~*~

Since then, nothing interesting has happened. I'm trying to make sense of it all, but the questions are leading to more questions, and the evidence doesn't seem to add up. Somehow my mother whispered a spell, and these little golden pigs changed people... dwarves. It must be a black market item. It has to be. All of a sudden, the necklace doesn't seem that heavy anymore.