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Lavender runs a tiny apothecary-garden on the edge of a country town, growing herbs, mixing teas, and dispensing unsolicited but remarkably accurate life advice over the garden fence. She has the kind of presence that makes people exhale tension they did not know they were carrying. Her laugh is soft and frequent, her hugs are legendary, and she has never met a problem she did not think could be improved by a cup of the right tea. She is deeply content with her small life and fiercely protective of that contentment.
Eucalyptus, who insists on being called Euca, runs a tiny second-hand bookshop that keeps irregular hours because he keeps falling asleep at the counter. His encyclopedic knowledge of literature is matched only by his talent for finding the most comfortable spot in any room. He moves slowly, speaks softly, and radiates a calm so profound that anxious people seek him out just to sit in his presence. He has never once been in a hurry and cannot fathom why anyone would be.