The trees around McKinley Park had started to turn a succulent shade of bronzed yellow with a large amount of chestnuts growing in their spiky, protective shells. A few had already fallen but these weren't the ones that Terri was after; too large for her uses. No, she needed them a lot smaller, bullet like, and not so hard, just enough that if pinched between thumb and forefinger each chestnut possessed a slightly spongy feel. Porous and slightly malleable was the order of the day but these were high in the branches. Not an issue for the steepscrambler.


It was early, too early for many of the city but perfect conditions for Terri. A morning gloom lingered with a film of dampness coating the ground, the bark and the trees. Her orange and yellow backpack rested against the base of the tree's trunk, next to her running sneakers. It was already half-full with the the fruits (well, chestnuts) of her foraging. A single leaf fell from above to gently rest beside her bag followed by a curse, a curse that could only come from the lips of a particularly feisty female, one not afraid to speak her mind.


Terri re-adjusted her footing, re-gaining her balance. Her left foot now gripped a slightly wider branch nearby as her right stretched out beside her in what would seem a precarious position. The pocket's of Terri's orange hoody was full and it was as her foot slipped, she had realized there was no more bounty to be had from this tree. The morning was drawing on and people would be starting to utilize the park, and the sight of a petite redhead high in the trees may cause some concern; concern she could easily avoid.


With a series of well-practised tumbles and precise falls, Terri traversed the twenty-odd metres back down to solid ground. Emptying her pockets and drying her feet on a towel from her pack, she slipped her sneakers back on. Satisfied she had gathered enough chestnuts for the season, Terri continued her morning jog round the park to return to her hollow. She was getting hungry and there was still much preparation to do. A mild squeak caught her attention. A young grey squirrel sat nearby on its haunches, looking to her.


It squeaked again.


Terri stopped in her tracks and crouched down to mimic the small creature. She cocked her head and dragged a handful of chestnuts from her pack, holding them out and placing them into a small pile on the ground a foot away. The squirrel's nose twitched and carefully made its way over. Cautiously, it took one and began to chew, staring at Terri. The moment it was satisfied it wasn't about to die, it took a mouthful and hopped off, briefly halting to face the changeling.


“You're welcome,” Terri replied, chuckling as the grey squeaked with its chubby cheeks. As it bounded off up a tree, she called out after it, “Just don't make yourself ill.”