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So this was Eyncastor. Tempest planted his hands on his hips and took a decent whiff of the place, taking it in. It was certainly nothing like Sutfirth - smaller, for one thing, but airier, with wider streets and a calmer pace. He liked the smell of the air here - it was promising. Tempest always had to smell the air, like it had clues about the place he was about to be.

Wave-patterned sash flapping behind him, the book child set off down the cobbled street, hands shoved deep into his pockets. There was money there, shiny coppers earned by working in the tavern, and Tempest had no illusions of what he was going to do with it: He was going to sample every piece of pie between here and the far end of the sector.

(Well, maybe not, but only because that was a lot of pie.)

(On second thought, there was no such thing as too much pie.)

Tempest did not watch where he walked: he was too taken with the sights and sounds of this new neighborhood. The City People seemed more bohemian in their dress. The buildings seemed more brightly colored. Everything just felt to alive and fresh - he could make no judgements whether he liked it better than Sutfirth, because Tempest would always be biased in favor of Sutfirth... but it was a very promising part of town.

Tempest wheeled around and pressed his nose to the glass window of a bakery. "I think I'm gonna like it here," he intoned out loud, licking his lips.

It was the little prickling at the back of his neck that made Tempest look up - the sort of strange, distinct sense that someone was staring right at him. Surely everyone knew that feeling, it was the one that made two strangers lock eyes and then turn just as quickly away from each other in shame. Tearing his eyes away from the bakery window, he glanced around the street before finally settling his focus on a splash of color in the black and white crowd.

It was another Book Child, realized Tempest, and she was pretty. Grinning brightly, he made his way over and settled down on the bench next to her. It was undoubtedly awkward for a moment, although Tempest wouldn't know awkward if it introduced itself to him. Still smiling, he leaned over to her and asked, "What'cha doing?"

As far as introductions went, it wasn't the most polite way to make a lady's acquaintance. Tempest hadn't yet learned etiquette, though, and saw nothing wrong with his chosen greeting. He continued to beam at her. "I'm called Tempest," he told her, which was to say he called himself that and no one had yet contradicted him. "What's your name?"

It was a hopeful sort of question - a please be my friend kind of question. Tempest wanted friends - if only Fortuna could know his real story! That he was the son of the sea, the child of the waves... and that he was desperately lonely.

"Huh?" asked Tempest, thrown by the question about the rose. "I don't think it much matters what you call the flower, it's still a flower - oh." He thought about it for a second. "I still don't know. Tempest's just what I'm called." To be truthful, the boy was having difficult imagining himself called anything other than Tempest. While he knew that he'd chosen the name for himself within the first hours of his birth, he'd be hard pressed to recall any of the other possibilities he'd considered calling himself.

He leaned in to see what she was doing with the thread in her hands - weaving was something he'd never seen before, he just assumed cloth happened. The other thing that could be gleaned from this was that Tempest had no sense of personal space, and if he was making Fortuna uncomfortable with how close to her he'd gotten then he didn't realize it.

"It's pretty," he agreed, smiling at the strands of blue. "I like blue."

That much might have been obvious. Tempest straightened up. "And when you finish the bracelet, are you going to wear it?" The book child glanced down at his own bare wrists and decided he would very much like to have a bracelet of his own to wear.

"Please show me how you do it," he begged, looking her in the eye. "I want to learn. I want a bracelet." Maybe even one like the one she was making, with colors like the sea. Yes, that one would do nicely!

Tempest liked that idea even better, and he nodded vigorously as he began working on his bracelet for Fortuna. "That's a magnificent idea," he told her, quite certain that his foster mother would be proud of him for using the word. It was four syllables and eleven letters and probably one of the longest words he'd used all day. In fact, he was nearly certain that it was because Tempest had begun to keep track.

"I'm staying in Sutfirth," supplied the boy. His brow furrowed in concentration as he threaded his knot and began to twist the strands. It was complicated to remember which one needed to go where but he though he was getting the hang of it. He wanted to make this bracelet extra pretty, so that Fortuna would be happy to wear it and not embarrassed that some book child had given her a lame present. Tempest especially didn't want to be remembered as someone who gave lame presents.

"I'm just here for the day," he continued. "I'm gonna try pie at every bakery between here and wherever." Squinting at his bracelet, Tempest gestured for Fortuna to look. "Is this right so far?" He hoped it was right so far. He thought it was right so far, but this was a situation that called for being extra careful.

Tempest beamed at her and continued to work on his bracelet. He hadn't thought about what he'd do at bakeries with no pie. Skip them, he supposed, but then how would he know if they were good or not if he didn't try them? "Then I guess I'll get cookies if I go to a bakery with only cookies," he reasoned, holding up his wrist so she could fit him with the bracelet.

When it was fastened, he held up his hand admiringly so he could see all the different colors and the way it slipped around on his wrist. "Magnificent!" he confirmed, turning back to his project. "Here, let me finish yours!"

Hopefully Fortuna didn't mind that he wasn't as fast as her - after all, Tempest was still learning, and she had who knew how much experience weaving! He was proud of the bracelet he'd made, even if the weave wasn't quite even and the colors mixed in a slightly drunken way. "Here, here, let me put it on you!" the boy exclaimed, finishing the last knot with relish and holding it out for her to admire.

Clockwork animals... now those sounded interesting, but Tempest only had a few coppers on him. "I'd like to see those!" he exclaimed, nearly fumbling the knot he was trying to tie around Fortuna's wrist. "But I haven't got nearly enough money, I mean, I've barely got enough for all the pie I want to eat and aren't clockworks expensive?"

He'd never actually seen one yet, but his foster parents mentioned them occasionally. His host mother would like a clockwork cat, but his host father saw it as a waste of money... One day, Tempest would save enough to buy one for her!

He lifted his hands from Fortuna's wrist, letting the bracelet hang freely. "There!" Tempest exclaimed. "What do you think?"

"He bought that from someone who stole it from a book child," whispered tempest, watching the shadow in the graying cloak walk past. He'd only been in the city a few weeks, but it was long enough to know that there were no animal products that didn't come in on book children at some time or another. At first he'd thought it odd - his story told him all about whales and fish and crabs and sharks - but now he was becoming strangely accustomed to it. "Later he'll make up some fantastic story about it, but right now... he wants to get home before all the color fades."

He glanced slyly at Fortuna. "He has a lady he is trying to woo," he supposed. "She likes colors."

He glanced down at the bracelet twisting around Fortuna's wrist and preened a bit, still basking in her compliments. It didn't occur to him to suspect she might be being facetious - all Tempest knew was that he'd made a friend. "Can we go look at clockworks now?" the boy asked, hopping to his feet and offering her a hand.

"You'll, um, have to lead the way. I don't know it." She seemed like a capable tour guide, though.

Tempest looked at her oddly. Why wouldn't the feather-cloaked shadow be courting a girl? "So he's not lonely anymore," he answered, thinking it was the most obvious thing in the world. Adopted as he was by a married couple, Tempest had a rather glorified idea of romance. His foster parents functioned as two parts of a unified whole, dedicated companions who each tended to the upkeep of the tavern and of each other. He rather admired them in that sense, for they never had to fret about being alone.

The touch of her hand sent what might have been a jolt of electricity up his arm. Feeling warm, Tempest shot her another smile. Holding hands with anyone was new to him as well - he could not explain what had possessed him to help her off the bench, but he was thankful for the impulse.

"Do all book children get adopted by city folk?" he asked wonderingly as he followed her. "I mean, you're the first other one I've met, but I Have some as well." Emphasis on Have - they were His. They'd welcomed them into their home and now it was Tempest's home, too, and by extension so were they.

He liked this Library City place. It was so much less lonely than the Forest!

"What does Your city person do?" Tempest asked. "Mine run a tavern. I help out - that's how I got my money. So that I can get pie." Perhaps there was a bakery near the clockwork shop. Perhaps Fortuna knew one.

Swinging their joined hands a bit, Tempest asked, "Will you show me a bakery after the clockworks? I will buy you pie. Or a scone. A cookie? Whichever you like best. I will buy it for you." Because then she would like him, and she would be His.

"Mine gave me an allowance," replied Tempest, glancing down momentarily. Did she not approve that he had money? Money that he was going to spend on pie? Nonsense - how could anyone disapprove of anything if it led to delicious, baked fruity goodness. Flawed logic or not, his defensiveness evaporated.

"I don't mind the city people at all!" he exclaimed, frowning. How could anyone? Of course, not all children emerged from the forest in the same way Tempest had - he'd gone looking for others, and discovering a city full of people, a veritable metropolis, had been a godsend for him, even if they weren't quite like him. City people were all in all fascinating, and kind, and he liked how each of them spoke differently and he liked them especially now that he could keep up with what they were saying.

"Have you met anyone like us who doesn't like the city folk?" he asked, now thoroughly scandalized by the very notion. "I mean, how could they? They're so generous, and there's so many of them, so many friends to make-"

He just didn't understand it!

Word of a bakery distracted him from the scandal well enough, of course. "Brilliant!" exclaimed Tempest (Two syllables, nine letters - still good). "We will go there, and I shall buy you pie."