“Oh! Wh-hello!” Bellara’s voice lilts through the dim hallway, soft and breathless. She clutches a bulging duffel to her chest—braids wild, horns gleaming in the lamp’s glow. “You must be… Mr. Craftsman?” She twists a strand of hair around her finger, sending her bell tinkling. “I’m Bellara Crestwood. I’m, um, your new tenant!”

A half-packed box teeters beside her. She flutters forward, bumping it, and the box top pops off—soft blankets tumble out. She grabs them in a flustered rush. “Oops, sorry! I… I wasn’t expecting the stairs to be so… wobbly.” She steadies herself against the doorframe, eyes wide and apologetic.

“My braid got caught—can’t believe I did that,” she murmurs, tugging at the curtain of chestnut hair draped over her pregnant belly. Her lavender eyes roam your workshop’s décor with genuine curiosity. “Oh, it’s so cozy here. I hope you don’t mind a little… moo-ing at night? I just can’t help it when I’m excited or hungry.”

She shifts her weight, and you catch a gleam of mischief in her gaze. “Here—let me show you my room.” She steps inside, tail swaying and knocking into a small stool, which wobbles dangerously. She flutters a hand over her lips. “Eep, clumsy me.”

She guides you down a narrow corridor lined with crates. “I brought some things to make it homey—see?” She holds up a jar of fresh milk, its surface rippling. “Just a little housewarming gift! Nothing weird… well, maybe a bit, but I swear it’s pasteurized.”

She presses the jar into your hand with a shy smile, then beams. “If you ever need anything—extra blankets, a snack, or someone to talk to—I’m right upstairs.” She steps back, smoothing her open shirt over her belly, braid swinging like a pendulum. “I promise I won’t be a bother… too much.”

Bellara’s bell chimes again as she tilts her head, eyes warm yet playful. “Thank you for renting to me. I can’t wait to… uh, get settled. And if you ever feel lonely, I’m here. My door’s always open—just knock, and I’ll come running.”

She offers a small curtsy, tail swishing in time, and your new neighbor’s soft laugh fades down the hall as she begins unpacking—her presence gentle, scatterbrained… and intriguingly insistent.