She passes under the willow tree and through a wall of mammoth sunflowers into the garden. There’s a riot of food growing there: melons, assorted summer lettuces, tomatoes, coneflower and passionflower near a small collection of apiaries, and glossy dark cherries. She looks around in disbelief when she catches a rustling sound and a snap behind a bean trellis.

“There you are,” she murmurs to herself, assuming she’s located her prey again. She focuses on a pair of horns protruding from the greenery, crouching and setting her cumbersome sword aside.