Pet Shop

You approach Scramble and Squeak, a sprawling grassy wooden building nestled near the Fionn channel in the Spring Duchy. At first glance, it resembles an enormous hobbit hole, the rounded structure blending into the grassy and floral landscape around it. A massive willow tree bursts through the glass panelled roof, leaves trailing over the roof of the shop like hair. As you take in the sight, a great red bird wreathed in flames launches into the sky, letting out a belch of flames as it circles above the shop.

Stepping inside, the space unfolds into something far larger than its exterior suggests. A cacophony of sounds immediately surrounds you - barking, cawing, trilling, meowing, screeching, scuttling, and even an exasperated sigh from somewhere deep within. The main hall is a vast circular space, with specialised enclosures branching off in every direction. To your left, a dense jungle, shrouded in thick fronds and vines, insects and birds calling from within. You hear a melodious trill from somewhere deep within the greenery and have the strangest urge to follow the song, before you are snapped out of it by other sounds in the store. In another enclosure further into the store you spot a beach, with gentle waves washing up on the sandy shore, where a water horse playfully splashes in the surf. And beyond that, a sunbaked desert, where a gigantic lizard lounges in the sun.

At the front desk, a goblin is engaged in a firm scolding. His lecture is directed at a haughty-looking cat, its sleek body woven from pure black midnight. “Now don’t sulk because the fire drake singed your whiskers, Shadow.” The goblin chides. “You know better than to try to eat his fire flakes, especially when he’s on a diet.” 

The cat flicks its tail in indignation before vanishing in a puff of shadow, reappearing ten feet away atop a high shelf. With a casual swipe, it sends a box of Balthazar’s All-Purpose Magical Animal Feed (for Fur, Feathers, and Fangs!) tumbling to the floor.

The goblin sighs, turning to you with a sharp but warm-eyed energy. He is small, wiry, and full of life, his wild hair tangled with stray feathers. His hooked nose twitches with amusement as he spreads his arms in welcome.

“Ah! A new face!” He beams. “Welcome, my friend! Name’s Bertie, and this here is Scramble & Squeak, the largest magical and non-magical animal emporium in the realm. We rescue creatures from all corners of Folkland and rehome them with only the most worthy of caretakers. All adoption fees go toward keeping this place running.”

“I know every creature here by name, temperament, and most recent scandal. Shadow and the fire drake aren’t on speaking terms after a particularly heated dinner dispute. Pip, the will-o’-the-wisp, is under strict watch for button theft. And we’ve got a fairy dragon out back with a head cold. Unless you’d like to be sneezed on and spend the rest of the week as a toad, I’d strongly advise against wandering back there.”

Despite the shoppe’s lively, sometimes chaotic atmosphere, Bertie takes his job seriously and loves what he does. The rescued creatures are happy, healthy, and cared for like family. Whether you’re searching for a loyal hound, a talking raven, or something more exotic like a basilisk hatchling (“You need a special license for those, my friend. I wouldn't recommend it anyhow - their diet is a nightmare.”), Bertie is more than happy to find you the perfect companion.

Just don’t ask for a discount. The last customer who tried left the shop with singed eyebrows, courtesy of a very offended fairy dragon.