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Fern-hunting parties became popular, allowing young women to get outside in a seemingly innocuous pursuit with less rigid oversight and chaperoning than they saw in parlors and drawing rooms. They may have even had the occasional romantic meetup with a similarly fern-impassioned beau. — Bree


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A Mild Adventure
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June 13th, 1888 — Swallowbury District

Some days, Davinder went outside for a walk. He didn't ever go far away from the house where he lived, and now that was even more true, as the fog had come to Swallowbury. Even Davinder had been able to understand that there was something definitely wrong, but he still wished to go outside, even with the reduced visibility. The magic loss didn't bother him. He didn't even have a wand yet, but he wanted this fog to be solved by the time he bought one. He had just hoped that Miss Fairchild, the older one, wouldn't notice he was gone. Davinder did always feel a little abandoned in the house. No wonder the young Miss Fairfield seemed to like her school.

His eyes were drawn to a shadow walking in the fog. It wasn't either of the Misses Fairfield, or was it? The fog made it difficult to tell. Maybe it was one of them coming to bring him back to the house. "Hello?" Davinder called out in strongly accented English, "You are lost?"

With all the fog around, Davinder was worried that he might be in danger. But if he didn't have magic, nothing else did, and he could fight reasonably well, or at least tackle others.


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