For Belle, the slow morning only dragged on.  The clouds lofted away, her feet grew clammy, and in a final bid to break up the monotony she took a detour to Tanjozo's main well to get water before making her way back to the farm.  The memory of her peaceful moment in the cool, fragrant ditch by the road passed away into nothing, and she worked slowly but with a steady vigor at her tasks in the fields of her employer.  Alongside her toiled landowner Levi Richmond himself, his characteristic white bandana soaking up the sweat that trickled between his silver-brown hair.  His son Emile, who by now cheerfully called Belle 'sis' though no familial bond linked them, labored also.  With careful precision, the three fertilized the fields with compost, making sure that the nutrients lay buried and accessible to their growing crops in the weeks to come. When noon rolled around, the trio retired, lamenting that they'd chosen to work past the opportune time but secure in the fact that fewer chores awaited them in the afternoon.  Belle, of course, remained quiet, but among these people she sported a certain ease found in her nowhere else.  Even if she merely worked for these people, they treated her like family.  Sometimes, it took a great deal of willpower to suppress a contented smile.

Compared to the tiring toil of the morning, the afternoon's tasks proved to be a vastly different sort.  The wife of the family, Hilde, and her brother, who always asked that Belle call him 'Uncle Angus', shared a trade: weaving.  Whether cloth or plant fibers, they could create all manner of useful material, from children's dolls to sturdy wicker baskets so tight that water couldn't escape them.  When the time came, Belle, Emile, Hilde, and Uncle Angus gathered all that the two weavers made for the last few weeks and set off down the road to where the craft fair would take place.

The group arrived just before the official start time, and hurried to set up the 'stall'.  They worked together to lay out a trio of brightly-patterned blankets on the grass, set up a stool, and array the wares all over the blankets.  Without a word necessary, Belle seated herself on the shopkeeper's stool, a tiny basket slung around her shoulders ready to receive money.  A while ago, the Richmond family discovered Belle's strangely effective affinity for managing a shop: her odd appearance and mannerisms would attract the wandering eye, and any who came near enough would her her tranquil but weirdly intense insistence, “Buy something.”  Though not quite to the level of threatening, this common request came out rather compelling.  One would not be faulted for thinking Belle to be some mystic, whose dolls, quilts, mats, jars, and baskets held some elusive, special attribute.  After the others left to explore the craft fair, which Belle exhibited no interest in, sales occurred with a pleasing regularity.  That is, until the cows arrived.

When her dull eyes beheld the stampeding cattle, her lips parted with an irritated sigh.  Her silent but accusing disgust at the situation did not seem quite enough to enable her to take action, but fortunately another attendee of the craft show decided to do so instead.  Belle looked on, perplexed, as Cia stripped in front of the entire assembly before suddenly and messily transforming into a massive, monstrous bear.  Belle continued to watch, mouth slightly agape in surprise but her eyes in their usual near-shut position, giving her the appearance of lazy shock.  When the excitement subsided and Cia turned back, apparently ignoring all of the eyes on her as she put her clothes back on, Belle lost interest.  “More like freak show,” she muttered, and set her eyes on a little girl nearby.  “Hey.  Buy something.”  The girl approached and bent down over a sheep doll, one with real wool stitched to the cloth core.