Scotland Mochi

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The windswept crags, cliffs, and hills of Scotland hold a strange kind of beauty for you. Most people would say it's miserable, or dingy, or gloomy, but you think it has it's own virtues. The land is sturdy and reliable. It resists the fierce winds that batter the northern UK and thrives. This land is a fighter, just like you.

The grassy hills roll past your car windows as you drive down a country road. It's not the first time you've been here, so this road is vaguely familiar to you. You reach a crossroads and take the dirt path on the right. This road is not very long, and the ocean quickly comes into view, and the hum of the engine stops abruptly when you shut off the car. All that's left is the soft, distant sound of waves beating against the rocky cliffs.

You step out of your rental car and stretch gratefully. Driving for long periods of time is not something you particularly enjoy. A not so gentle breeze tugs at your clothing and hair, and you pull your jacket closer to yourself. You had forgotten how chilly it could get on the bluffs. Shrill cries from frightened sea fowl fill the air as you walk closer to the rocky cliffs. Grass grows right up to the edge of the drop, so you take a seat on the soft, springy greens.

"Hasn't changed one bit," you murmur happily. You love that about Scotland. It's steadfast and reliable.

The wind seems to whirl around you as if in reply to your words. It brings with it the sound of bleating sheep. This land belongs to a farmer you had briefly met once. He's an older gentleman, but very kind. You had asked him it you could come out here, and he had agreed happily.

"Some fresh air is good for ya city kids," he had said.

Something warm nudges one of your hands, and you look over to see a fluffy little lamb trying to get your attention. It bats it's big eyes at you, which makes your heart melt. You gently pet it's downy head between the ears and laugh.

"Where's your mama, little guy?"

A loud baaing comes from behind you, and you turn to see a large ewe watching you carefully from the top of a small hill. The lamb answers his mother and prances back to her after giving you a happy look. If sheep could smile, he would have been grinning at you.

"'Ey! What ya doin' ova there, Lucy?" An odd, white object hops onto the hill next to the ewe. "Find a li'l faery or somethin' down there?" The thing spots you and widens it's green eyes. "Heh heh! Even betteh!"

You're too surprised by this sudden change in events to say anything back. The white thing hops down the hill toward you with interest in its eyes.

"What ya doin' out 'ere, lassie?"

"I-I...nothing really," you say once you get over your shock. "I like the scenery."

"Ah, ya got a good eye, lassie," it says with a playful wink. "Not many people come out 'ere, but it's mighty fine country. Yes ma'am, mighty fine."

"Who are you?" you ask curiously.

"The betteh question is who are you?"

"I'm (y/n)," you inform the object. "Now why don't you answer my question."

"You're a cheeky li'l thin' a'n't ya?" it says. "I like lasses wit' spirit. Mah name's Scotland Mochi, an' I be watchin' this 'ere sheep for ole man Griggs. He's gettin' a li'l too ol' fo' this kin'a work, ya know."

You just nod.

"So, (y/n), what brings ya t' this fine country?" he asks. "Don't get many city folk down 'ere."

"It's...difficult to explain," you tell him.

"Well, I got some time, lassie. Nothin' t' do 'cept make sure the sheep don't wander off too fah."

"Okay," you say hesitantly. It's a little embarrassing for you to talk about, especially with someone that's practically a stranger. "I came here for the first time to go to some of the festivals."

"Ah 'ear ya, lassie," the mochi says with a nod. "A real good time those festivals are."

You smile. "Yeah, they were great," you agree. "But that's not why I came back." Scotland Mochi looks at you questioningly. "It's this," you say and gesture to the windswept landscape. "I fell in love with this."

"You...really like it 'ere that much?" he asks with a voice full of wonder.

"Yes. It's like a good friend, always reliable," you say fondly. "It's beautiful, but you couldn't tell from just glancing at it."

The mochi stares at you with wide eyes. "Are...are you an angel, lassie? Did ya fall outta mah own personal heaven?"

A blush rises to your cheeks. "N-no, nothing like that."

Scotland Mochi has the most awe filled expression you've ever seen. His eyes green sparkle happily, and it makes you happy just looking at them. "I've been waitin' all mah life for a lass like you!" he says. "Ya see the land fo' what it truly is! Ya got the eyes of an angel!"

Your blush deepens. "W-why thank you."

"Would ya like t' 'ear stories o' the land, lassie?" Scotland Mochi asks with a twinkle in his eyes. "There's a deep magic in this country. The sheep know all 'bout it, an' the wind whispers 'bout it in ya ears when it blows."

"That sounds wonderful," you breathe, interest peaked. "Tell me more."

The mochi smiles widely and chuckles. "All in good time, lassie. Let's start wit' somethin' ya know. Eva 'eard o' good ole Nessie?"

"Yes, of course!" you answer. His warm voice has you captivated.

"Well, let me tell ya 'er story, lassie. She's actually a sweet li'l lass once ya get t' know 'er."

Time flies by as you listen to Scotland Mochi's fantastic stories. His tales are full of mystery, magic, fairies, love, and more. The mochi's voice surrounds you and breathes life into his stories. Colorful images flash before your eyes as each story blends into the next. You find yourself falling even harder for this craggy, misunderstood country. You've become a part of its magic.

Several sheep have settled around you and the mochi and seem to be listening to his stories, as if they understand what he's saying. It's possible they do since he's talking about the magic they know so well. His eyes convey to you a strong emotion as he finishes his last story. You can't identify what it is, but it makes your heart flutter excitedly.

"Your stories are lovely," you breathe when Scotland Mochi falls silent.

"Not as lovely as you, lassie," he says softly. "Ya really are an angel."

"Thank you," you say with a smile. Your watch beeps, and you notice the time it reads. "Oh no! I have to get going!" You look up at the mochi. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

Disappointment clouds Scotland Mochi's green eyes. "If ya must, lassie. It was a real treat talkin' t' ya. I don't get much comp'ny out 'ere, ya know."

The sad look on his face breaks your heart. "I...I'll be back tomorrow."

"Ya will?" He brightens almost instantly. "You 'ave no idea 'ow much that means t' me, lassie."

"I'll definitely come back," you promise. On a whim, you lean over and kiss the mochi. This causes a bright red blush to appear all over his face. "Goodbye, Scotland Mochi."

He's too flustered to say anything to you as you get up. You wave to him before walking away, stepping over sheep as you go. He follows you with his eyes, and you're about to get in your car when he calls out to you.

"G'bye, (y/n)!" he shouts. You wave one last time and slip into the car. "(Y/n)...what an angel," he murmurs to himself as you slowly drive away. "If ah didn' know bettah, I'd say I'm in love."

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