It was a beautiful morning. Though the Autumn winds had snuck across the land, frost nipping at the tips of fingers and ends of leaves, a rare warm front had made itself known, warming the world beneath a wash of sunlight. Goosebumps prickled Catie's arms as she took a deep breath of the refreshing air, having spent more time in her oven-warmed kitchen than she'd needed to, expecting this day to be as cold as the last week had been.
Instead, it was a nice warm day, and her shop was positively dripping wet on the inside. A cloven hoof shoved a milk crate, empty bottles and all, against the door, propping it open so the temperature might even out a bit. With the warmth, the warm smells of baked goods drifted from the door, along with the occasional sweet whiff of caramel or chocolate or fruit.
The smell was hypnotic. It went straight into Sigmundur's stomach, doing its level best to convince him that it was as good as actual food. Scrawny and underfed, the centaur's stomach clenched painfully with desire, and with careful looks left and right, he followed his nose. Stealing always made him feel horrible, but it was better than being hungry for another second!
The closer he got, the more intense the smells became, until he found himself at the back of a bakery. Cautiously he poked his head inside, darting back when he caught sight of a woman inside. Drat! That would make things harder. Still, he had to try.
But when Sigmundur tried to creep in through the open door, his hoof caught upon one of the milk bottles, upending the whole crate in a spectacular crash. He froze, guilt written clear on his face, and braced himself for the worst.
The cervitaur jumped at the spectacular crash, clutching the broom she'd been sweeping with like she meant to use it as a bat.
"Wh-who's there?" stammered the frosted baker, ears pressed flat against her pale blue hair as she slowly crept to the door, pressing it open slowly with her broom. Without, there was little of notice; a cat scampered down the alleyway, the sound of pigeons echoed down from the rafters, and a scraggly centaur gazed up at her guiltily. Catie's anger fell away to pity, a sad smile blooming on her face. "Are you hungry, little Mister?" she spoke quietly, propping the broom up against the wall and taking a wary step forward. "I have lots of breads, and other delicious things, too -- like cupcakes and pies and cookies and- oh, I'm sure there are plenty of things that you've heard of, and I-I always have a few extras at the end of the day."
