It was no coincidence that Juniper was standing there, in the bakery, eying the handful of crumbled cookie in the man's fist. The moments leading up to this might've been. The young tiger had been biking past the tiny commercial district on the edge of the Fens, thinking of window shopping, or buying lunch--at least two grinders, maybe three, so it was a bit of an investment--when she caught a stink.
It was a stink she couldn't parse, because at first, it left her head buzzing, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Then she realized it was familiar, but familiar in the sense of catching the smell of your own perfume on someone else while out and about. If the perfume was a strange animal musk. In any case, it was the sort of moment where you don't know the person, but you know that scent. It left a person wondering if this was a kindred soul? Or just a coincidence?
That said, everything after catching a whiff of that not-quite-familiar familiar smell was not a coincidence. Juniper locked her bike up and followed her nose. She followed it to the door of Knead the Dough, just in time to watch the source of this stink trip over another customer, scatter his cookies, and then frantically try to pick them all up.
Juniper pushed inside the shop, and stood over him, her expression narrowed, almost accusatory eyes, and perplexed interest. He shoved one cookie in his mouth and then offered her the crumpled remains of another.
“No thanks, bro,” the young tiger said, squinting at the guy and trying to make sense of him. She held out a hand to help him up, half-expecting it to feel like a shock of lightning, but dismissing that notion immediately. Maybe he would just disappear into a fine mist. It was just that she couldn't really believe she was smelling another tiger. Without knowing him, she didn't know if she ought to be happy about it, but cautiously, she was pretty intrigued. “Are... you new around here?”
It was a stink she couldn't parse, because at first, it left her head buzzing, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Then she realized it was familiar, but familiar in the sense of catching the smell of your own perfume on someone else while out and about. If the perfume was a strange animal musk. In any case, it was the sort of moment where you don't know the person, but you know that scent. It left a person wondering if this was a kindred soul? Or just a coincidence?
That said, everything after catching a whiff of that not-quite-familiar familiar smell was not a coincidence. Juniper locked her bike up and followed her nose. She followed it to the door of Knead the Dough, just in time to watch the source of this stink trip over another customer, scatter his cookies, and then frantically try to pick them all up.
Juniper pushed inside the shop, and stood over him, her expression narrowed, almost accusatory eyes, and perplexed interest. He shoved one cookie in his mouth and then offered her the crumpled remains of another.
“No thanks, bro,” the young tiger said, squinting at the guy and trying to make sense of him. She held out a hand to help him up, half-expecting it to feel like a shock of lightning, but dismissing that notion immediately. Maybe he would just disappear into a fine mist. It was just that she couldn't really believe she was smelling another tiger. Without knowing him, she didn't know if she ought to be happy about it, but cautiously, she was pretty intrigued. “Are... you new around here?”