[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Honey tied a tiny black and yellow striped scarf around her neck, as she sniffed the cool breeze that came in through the window. The harvest season was almost over; the majority of her fields lay empty, awaiting the spring when she would sow new seeds again. Her farm appeared barren, with only a few sparse bits of growth here and there. The frost was already settling in, and it wouldn't be long before everything was coated in a blanket of snow.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As she pulled on her boots, Honey smiled, remembering the colourful bouquets she had sold that summer and how Ren had gushed about how much people loved them in his letters. She was fond of the Florist, and hoped he would send another letter soon, as it had been some time since she sent her last one and she had not yet received a reply. She hoped all was well in the big city for them.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Finally, Honey stood to pull on her warm overcoat and pulled open the door. The wind whisled past her into the cosy cottage, but she just pulled her hat down tighter onto her head and pulled the door closed behind her. The air smelled fresh, and sharp, and there was still work to be done before she could close the farm down for the winter. She smiled as she began walking towards the barn and pens.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The barn was already filled with livestock; Honey had made a point to fill it with fresh hay and gather them all in as soon as the first frost had hit, and as she approached she could hear the low rumbling sound of contentment coming from it. The smell of warmth and hay (and the unmistakeable smell of livestock in a warm building) reached her, and she smiled while pulling the scarf up to cover her face.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As she shoveled, Honey listened to the chorus of contentment all around her and felt it warm her even as the chill swept in through the open barn door. She cared for all of the creatures she kept on the farm, and unlike other farmers she made a living without trading in livestock. Her Yingshee flock always brought in a good bounty during shearing season, and her fertiliser was highly sought for being so bountiful.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As she spread out the new hay, Honey was greeted with a chorus of rumbles and licks from each animal she passed. She refilled their food troughs, and patted her favourite tuskow on her head before locking up the barn again to keep the cold and wet weather out. She pulled the scarf down from around her face and took a deep breath of cold air, before wrapping it more securely around her neck as she strode onwards.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The next stop was the remains of the pumpkin patch, and Honey gazed serenely over the field that up until a couple of weeks ago had been full of orange globes that were almost as tall as she was. With a deep breath, she picked up the tools that she had left ready the night before and continued clearing the field of weeds and other dead foliage. She shovelled each cleared item into her wheelbarrow carefully.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Each time the wheelbarrow was full, Honey carefully wheeled it over to the compost heap in the corner of the field. She carefully tipped the dead foliage onto the top of the heap, patting it down into a neat pile with her shovel to make sure it would compose tightly into rich fertilizer. Although she didn't like the smell (after all, it was rotting), she knew that it was worth it to have a boutiful growth next season.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

When the field was clear, Honey went to the nearby shed and placed her little pail with a spout under the honey dispenser. This was where she kept the last of the raw honey from each season, letting it condense into a rich, thick, sweet broth which could see her bees through the winter months. She carefully carried the full pail around the hives, filling the little cups that she kept nearby and placing them on each level of the hives.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As she closed the last hive, she smiled, listening to the happy buzzing of her bees as they carried the honey around within the hive. The honey she gave them would tide them over until spring, when they would have fields of flowers to collect from in order to make more honey, which she would sell as she did every year. It was a beneficial arrangement for both her and the bees; she kept them fed through the winter, and they pollinated for her in the spring and summer.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Honey smiled as she came to her last stop; the greenhouse at the corner of her farm. In here was where she grew exotic plants and those that were needed all year round, as well as her own fruit and vegetables. She hung her coat inside the door and went to work, harvesting what was ready for the pantry and checking to make sure her plants were happy and healthy, making sure that the temperature was warm enough and they had enough water and fertiliser.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Coat back on and basket on her arm, Honey locked the greenhouse door behind her and plodded her way back to her farmhouse to wash her hands and put the vegetables away in the pantry. She would be making a roast dinner tonight, and her stomach was already rumbling at the thought of it. She was hungry and the cold made her long for a hot dinner and a cosy fire, though she still needed to milk the tuskow before she could consider the day's work completed.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Honey shivered as she stepped back out into the cold winter air; it felt sharp, like there would be fresh frost tonight, and she pulled her coat tighter around herself as she hustled over to the barn.

Although there were only six tuskow to be milked, and they were generally good-natured creatures, it still took time to lead each one to the milking stall; she was only small, after all, and they plodded along slowly behind her.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

She led each tuskow slowly to the milking shed, pulling gently on the harness they wore on their head to steer them into position so she could place the milking stool and the pail underneath them.

Each day, she could guarentee two pails of milk - one in the morning and one at night - and she enjoyed the milking process, though she was always careful when separating the herd, conscious of the size difference between the large creatures and herself.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As she finished milking the last of the tuskow, she moved the pail over to the corner where it couldn't get kicked over and covered it with a lid to make sure nothing got into it. She then moved the milking stool over to the other corner where it belonged and wiped it down with the cloth she had hung on the wall; whilst other farmers sat on their milking stools, she had to stand on it to reach the tuskow's udders and she always made sure to wipe the dirt from her boots off once she was finished.