It was a funny meeting, really. They were both on a rather direct route, right in line for the collision for a very specific reason. An unforeseen one on both their parts, clearly, but still a reason.
Llewellyn was, of course, just on his way away from the place she was heading towards. A bag clutched in his hand, and a bounce in his step. He was in a rather excellent mood, after all. He’d found a place that sold the basic, traditional pretzel before now… But something a little more sweet had escaped his investigations until now, and while he was more just a little more fond of the savoury variations on his favourite snack if he was going to pick? His husband adored the cinnamon sugar variety, and so the bag in his hand was meant to be a surprise for Rhy.
… Well, with one or two polished off beforehand. There were quite a few hours left in the day, after all, and just because they weren’t his favourite of favourites didn’t mean he didn’t like them. Pretzels were still pretzels, or something to that effect.
If only he’d been paying a little more attention, instead of distracted by his small victory in snack options or his next stop which would probably be another round at the Historium. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The collision sets the detective more than a little off kilter, his arms (bag of tasty pretzels included) swinging out a little to get his balance. “Oh— Oof, perhaps… Are you alright, Miss? No uh— no damage done?”
CINNAMON PRETZELS
Llewellyn was, of course, just on his way away from the place she was heading towards. A bag clutched in his hand, and a bounce in his step. He was in a rather excellent mood, after all. He’d found a place that sold the basic, traditional pretzel before now… But something a little more sweet had escaped his investigations until now, and while he was more just a little more fond of the savoury variations on his favourite snack if he was going to pick? His husband adored the cinnamon sugar variety, and so the bag in his hand was meant to be a surprise for Rhy.
… Well, with one or two polished off beforehand. There were quite a few hours left in the day, after all, and just because they weren’t his favourite of favourites didn’t mean he didn’t like them. Pretzels were still pretzels, or something to that effect.
If only he’d been paying a little more attention, instead of distracted by his small victory in snack options or his next stop which would probably be another round at the Historium. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The collision sets the detective more than a little off kilter, his arms (bag of tasty pretzels included) swinging out a little to get his balance. “Oh— Oof, perhaps… Are you alright, Miss? No uh— no damage done?”