First Encounters [Private - Marshall and Fennel]

[Warriors-horse]

It was a fair day in the West Quarter; a light breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, rattling the dying foliage like nature's version of a musical instrument. The day was still young, and Fennel Owens was strolling down the road, headed in the direction of her home and bakery. The ovens would be hot and waiting for her when she returned, but the pretty feline didn't seem to be in any sort of a hurry. Early morning sunlight streamed down through the fluffy patchwork clouds above. Over her shoulder she carried a large sack of flour, no doubt to restock her stores. Wondering if today would prove any more interesting than the last, Fennel found herself lost in a daydream, and nearly ran into another cat who had been standing in the road.

"Oops! I'm so sorry!" she said fretfully, reaching out her free paw to offer a hand to the poor feline she had jostled. "I was lost in thought. My goodness, I'm so sorry!" she repeated.

[mysterykitten]

Marshall had just been standing and thinking, when suddenly another feline had run into him. Smiling softly as she apologized several times, he took the held out paw and reassured her. “It’s quite alright, Miss.” He said as politely as he could, since he did not know the she-cat’s true name, the title would have to do.

“My name’s Marshall, Marshall West, 1st Class Legionary Soldier, pleased to meet you.” The tom gave a respectful introductory bow. He tried to make it a little less awkward since this cat had just run into him, and an introduction was a good way to change the subject of the matter. The gray furred soldier just hoped that this she-cat returned the favor and introduced herself as well. Marshall really wanted to know her name so it would be easier if he ever saw her again in some other part of Gwellian, or maybe even in the same part, who knows, anything could happen here, you just have to wait and see how it pans out for you.

[Warriors-horse]

Fennel smiled apologetically, glad she hadn't upset the tomcat. You never knew, these days - if luck had swung the other way, she could've bumped into a killer thug. She returned his friendly bow with a clumsy curtsy; doing so with a sack of flower slung over her shoulder proved to be more work than it was worth. "Miss Fennel Owens, baker," she said politely. "Pleased to meet you as well." She was grateful that he didn't seem to be quite affected by her rather ungainly entrance. Hating to bring it up again, Fennel still felt guilty, and wanted to make up for it in some way. "Might I offer you a small pastry from my shop? It's the least I can do for bumping into you like I did."

[mysterykitten]

Marshall nodded at her introduction before pausing for a brief moment. A pastry? He couldn’t really remember exactly when the last time he had one was, it was probably sometime during his kithood, it wasn’t really in his lifestyle now. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to be different for just one day, would it?

“I may have to take you up on that offer, Miss Fennel.” The soldier replied, giving one of his signature grins. This cat gave off a pretty kind aura, someone perhaps he could become good friends with in the future. Though he didn’t really make friends that often deliberately, because he is usually busy with his training and/or duties. So he had to rely on brief moments like this where someone would have to accidentally stumble into his path. “If you would be ever so kind and lead the way, that would be much appreciated.”

[Warriors-horse]

"Come along, then!" she chirped, looking cheerful as she hefted the sack of flour into a more comfortable position and paced onwards down the street. Passing a few houses more, the pair soon arrived at a worn but sturdy-looking home whose front was that of a shop. A bakery, to be exact; the calloused wooden sign above the door read "Owen's Bakery" in neat, carved letters. It appeared to be much older than either of the two cats, but everything still had a very home-y feel to it. Unlatching the door with her one free paw, Fennel swung open the creaky door and gestured for him to step inside. "Come in, and welcome to my bakery. I'll be out with your pastry in a moment, Mister Marshall." The long-furred tabby darted into the kitchen, surprisingly agile for a cat carrying a three-pound bag of flour on her shoulder.