Leah was very proud of the mermaid she sculpted during the winter ice festival. She had spent all morning on it, and if she said so herself, it was time well spent. Her fingers were numb, between the hitting of the sculpt and the cold, but it was well worth it. The mermaid was her magnum opus. She was the picture of grace, of beauty and perfection and-

“It kind of looks like the farmer,” someone pointed out, tilting their head.

She froze. No it didn’t. It totally did not. Did it-? Nono, there were complete differences. The hair-... well, the face-.... Oh, it definitely did. Oh no.