Dorothy, Oz, and Toto
Juhwan, who had fallen into a deep, dead-like sleep, woke up while the sky was still dark. It was so early that even Lizzy hadn’t woken up yet.
Dorothy, who had been sleeping near the hearth, had somehow crawled in between Juhwan and Lizzy’s legs during the night.
She was curled up like a snail under the blanket. Seeing her bury her head completely under the covers, Juhwan felt worried before he could even smile. Could she even breathe properly like that?
Thanks to the straw they had bought, the bed was now thick and puffed up. To Juhwan, who was used to modern mattresses, the straw poking through the fabric was quite uncomfortable, but Lizzy and Dorothy loved it. Dorothy especially kept rolling around happily on it, saying how soft it was.
Juhwan quietly slipped out of bed. The only sound was the faint crackling of firewood burning. He dressed quietly and stepped outside so as not to wake Lizzy.
Gus wouldn’t be coming for a few days again. Juhwan didn’t know why, but it seemed he was busy.
Outside, Juhwan stirred the embers of the fire and began working on the gate for the fence he hadn’t finished the day before.
It was harder than expected. Trying to make it smooth enough for Lizzy and Dorothy to open revealed just how lacking his craftsmanship was.
Just before dawn, Lizzy woke up and came outside to check on him. Sleep still lingered faintly on her face.
Juhwan paused his work for a moment and went to fetch water from the spring.
Meanwhile, Lizzy was doing laundry.
Without a washing machine, even doing laundry in this world was a major task. Clothes soaked overnight in lye water had to be rinsed again early in the morning with clean water, then hung out to dry by sunrise.
Small clothes weren’t too bad, but large items like blankets were difficult for a woman to handle alone. Without a spin dryer, wet fabric was much heavier than expected.
Whenever Juhwan was around, he always helped—but for some reason, Lizzy often tried to do things on her own. Each time, Dorothy would insist on helping too, which only made things more complicated.
Fortunately, today’s laundry was small: one dress for Dorothy and a set of clothes for Juhwan.
Juhwan returned to working on the gate. By the time he finally managed to complete it, the sun was already high in the sky.
He hadn’t checked the snares yesterday. The day before, not a single rabbit had been caught, so he figured there was no need to check them daily.
Dorothy had been very disappointed. She seemed to think that two or three rabbits would be caught every single day.
To be honest, Juhwan had been disappointed too. He had expected to catch at least one per day. Hopefully, there would be at least one today.
Before leaving, he cast a healing spell on the baby rabbit, which was awake and wriggling around. Fur still hadn’t grown back on its injured areas, but the flesh had mostly recovered. Its internal injuries were probably healed too.
Just as he thought he had poured enough mana into it, he noticed something strange.
A faint light seemed to glow from the baby rabbit’s forehead—the place where its horn was.
It wasn’t shining outward, but rather like a light bulb glowing under fabric.
But when he blinked and looked again, the rabbit was back to normal, staring at him with its round black eyes.
‘Gus didn’t say anything about this…’
It was strange.
Yesterday, while learning about bows, Juhwan had asked Gus about horned rabbits—whether they were dangerous and whether they could be raised.
From what he understood, horned rabbits were a kind of “magical beast,” something like monsters from Earth.
According to Gus, wild horned rabbits were dangerous. If approached, they could even bite and kill a child.
However, if raised from a very young age, they could be tame. Apparently, some people even kept magical beasts.
Still, Gus hadn’t mentioned anything about them glowing.
Maybe there were different types of horned rabbits?
Juhwan spoke to the baby rabbit.
“Hey, I don’t know why you’re glowing. Are you really a horned rabbit? You’re not something strange, are you? You must not put Lizzy or Dorothy in danger.”
“…”
The baby rabbit moved its mouth slightly and let out a small sound.
“Pii.”
“…”
Strange. Do rabbits even make that kind of sound?
Maybe magical beasts only looked like rabbits but were actually something else entirely.
Juhwan crouched down and looked into its eyes.
“Can you understand me?”
“Pii.”
“So you can’t understand?”
“Pii.”
It didn’t seem to understand.
Just in case, he cast another healing spell, but the light didn’t appear again.
Maybe it was just his imagination—but no, he was sure he had seen it.
‘I’ll ask Gus next time.’
Juhwan grabbed his bow and arrows and stepped outside. He didn’t pack a lunch.
The snares were now set closer to home, so there was no need to travel far.
Out of the five snares, three had caught rabbits.
After quickly dealing with them and placing them into a cloth bag, Juhwan wandered around the area, checking for other animal tracks or droppings.
He didn’t recognize all animal tracks yet. He could identify rabbits and deer thanks to Gus, but the rest were still unfamiliar.
Still, getting used to seeing them was important.
That was how Gus had taught him.
There was still snow in many places, so tracks were easy to spot.
Most were small.
Some animal footprints even looked eerily human—like those of squirrels. If not for their size and slight differences, they would have been unsettling.
There were no particularly notable tracks—just small animals.
After wandering the mountain for a while, Juhwan returned home around noon. Aside from rabbits, he hadn’t found anything else.
The gate was locked from the inside, just as he had instructed.
As he reached the gate, he opened his mouth to call Lizzy—but before he could speak, he heard Dorothy’s voice from inside.
“Daddy!”
“Dorothy?”
Startled, he looked toward the door and saw her eyes peeking through a small gap.
“Daddy, Dorothy will open it!”
He heard the wooden latch being lifted from inside, and soon the door swung open. Dorothy came running out.
“Daddy, Dorothy opened the door!”
“Were you waiting for me?”
“Yes! Dorothy waited! I waited a lot, a lot!”
She showed him ten fingers… then ten again.
It seemed she had been going back and forth, watching the gap in the door the whole time.
“Thank you, Dorothy.”
“Yes! Dorothy is busy!”
She beamed and ran back inside, shouting loudly.
“Mom! Daddy’s back! Daddy’s back!”
She really did seem busy.
Juhwan locked the gate again and went inside.
Now that she had opened the gate, Dorothy demanded names for the rabbit and the doll. Somehow, what was supposed to be “I’ll think of good names later” had turned into a condition.
Juhwan named the rabbit “Oz.”
If there was Dorothy, then of course there had to be Oz.
The stuffed rabbit became “Toto,” like the dog from the story.
“Dorothy, Oz, and Toto.”
Dorothy’s eyes sparkled brightly.
She loved it.
“Dorothy, Oz, Toto!”
Holding the basket with both the baby rabbit and the doll inside, she ran around the house shouting their names over and over again.
The village was buzzing with unease.
Whenever two people gathered, they talked about goblins with anxious expressions. Stories spread—rumors, old tales, things their grandfathers once said.
Ever since Gus reported spotting goblins, everyone was restless.
This mood would likely continue until adventurers arrived.
To the villagers—uneducated and powerless—adventurers seemed like incredible figures who fought monsters.
The village chief looked at his wife, who stomped into the house with an irritated expression. She slammed the door loudly.
“Did you finish cleaning the wagon?”
“Yes.”
Her tone was sharp.
“What are you so unhappy about?”
That was enough to set her off.
“I already have so much work—why should I suddenly clean a wagon we don’t even use? And it’s not even ours! Why do I have to do it alone?”
“That’s—”
“Oh, sure, I’m the village chief’s wife, right? That means I have to hand over everything I’ve carefully kept for the village, do all the shared labor by myself, and clean a wagon that hasn’t been used for decades!”
She was still upset about the fabric he had taken from her.
The chief sighed.
“That wagon—”
But she cut him off again.
“I know! If goblins come or there are too many, we’ll use it to escape. But Gus said there are only about ten of them!”
“Let me speak!”
He snapped, and she finally fell silent.
“Gus might be right. But what if there are more? What if there are multiple groups? What if they attack the village and we’re not prepared?”
“….”
“Things don’t always go as expected. I’ve lived long enough to know that.”
“…But then why not just use our own cart?”
“Our cart has no cover! If people see us loading things, they’ll think we’re trying to run away alone!”
“….”
“So stop complaining and load food when no one’s looking.”
“…Okay.”
“Load plenty. If nothing happens, we can just unload it later.”
“…I said I understand.”
She pouted and walked toward the kitchen.
The chief frowned.
Things hadn’t gone well with the information broker in the city.
Healing mages were rare, but the broker hadn’t readily offered to connect him with a noble from another territory.
He had only asked questions.
‘He said he’d contact me later… but it feels off.’
At least he had received some money in exchange for promising not to sell the information elsewhere.
Still…
Things weren’t turning out as expected.
He sighed again.
“Nothing in this world ever goes the way you think it will.”