PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

You know what Dina just said about people interrupting, but since so many other people seem to be paying her no attention, you decide to throw caution to the wind and offer some defense for the protestors. Even if it means you're asked to leave, you feel like this is more important.


Clearing your throat, you speak loudly enough that it carries across the room:


Eventually, Dina takes a long breath and turns back to the person she was speaking to before so that she can finish her response. Then, she asks if there are any more questions—and a woman near the front of the hall raises her hand.


"Yes, Mrs. Weathers," Dina says, and the woman gets to her feet. "What would you like to ask?"


"I just want to know why they think we should have to give up our chance at earning a living just to protect a forest."


By this point, she isn't addressing Dina anymore, but the line of protesters themselves. And although her tone is steady, her jaw is set quite firm.


Before Dina herself can reply, Rana speaks up from the middle of the line.


"It's not that we want that. But I do believe—we all believe—that protecting the forest, the environment, is important for all of us. And right now the town needs more than just jobs. If all this new stuff gets built, everything will start to get more expensive, and a lot of the people who already live here won't be able to afford to stay. Plus, if we let our forest get torn apart, we'll risk losing part of the environment that we need to live at all."


"But I am one of the people who already lives here," Mrs. Weathers responds quickly, a little more emotion in her voice. "And last time I checked, we can't buy our food with twigs and leaves. We need to work to survive as well; more work means more people can survive. Are you saying you're more interested in protecting some trees than actual human beings?"


"No—but—I don't think it should have to be one or the other," Rana says after a small pause. At that, Mrs. Weathers shakes her head and speaks with a voice that's beginning to crack.


"Maybe it shouldn't be, but right now I do have to choose. I can't afford not to put my family first. Maybe that's not something you have to worry about, but for some of us, it is. I need to buy groceries today. Do you want me to sit back and die so we can save the planet?"


There's a flash of shock on Rana's face—and after fumbling for a moment for her words, she closes her mouth. For a few seconds, your ears ring with the troubled silence that falls; and at the same time, you realize the entire hall's attention is focused like never before, waiting to see who will be the next person to speak.


But when nobody does—when neither Rana nor Mrs. Weathers seem quite sure what to say next—it occurs to you that there might be something you could say yourself.
