Knock on Wood

{{Finally, summun gets it. =T.T=}}

The child's face lit up, and she grinned.

After a while, they'd made it into the town. As they passed the ports, Clara intictively grabbed a hold of Minikin's hand. Maternal instinct, perhaps.

"Alright. Do we get the wood first? Or the food...?"

Minikin blinked, glancing around. "Wood first, so the food will be fresher when we take it home." She nodded as she talked, eyes constantly roving about the town.

"Good girl." Clara nodded, swiveling to lead her toward the carpenter's.

{{Glen's? }}

Minikin followed her dutifully.
Tikkat, however, had decided he'd had enough of being carried, and he wriggled out of the child's arms to drop to the ground. Licking his fur flat with a few quick swipes of the tongue, he bounced behind the pair, tail sticking up like a flagpole.

[[The one and only. I guess he didn't move to Castle Town. ]]

Clara grinned at the little cat, shaking her head. "Silly thing."

Ducking into a nearby building, she shaded her eyes from the sudden change in light.

"Well hey there, Clara! What can I do you for?"

Minikin paused, breathing in the wood-scented air. It was alot different from the sea-salted winds of the ocean...

Clara smiled. "Hello, Glen. I am on a quest for some timber to help repair a ship."

Glen nodded, "Alright...I can help. Back in a second."

Minikin watched him leave, curiosity stamped all over her face. "Do you know everyone in town?" she asked, glancing up at Clara.

Tikkat's ear twitched. Something had moved in one of those corners...

Clara shook her head. "No, not many people, actually. Glen and I are very close, though."

"...Oh." Such different tools in here, and it smelled so... strange! Not in a bad, way, just... different.

Tikkat vanished behind a barrel, ears flat against his head.

{{'ere, mousey, mousey...}}

Glen returned with a board. "Think this'll do you?"

Clara nodded. "I think that would work fine."

The young carpenter nodded. "Alright. How many you need? Twenty or so?"

Clara nodded again. "I should think so...say, do you mind if we come back to pick it up? I have to pick up some groceries."

Glen nodded. "Not a problem, Clar. See you around."

He nodded at Minkin, "And you, too, young lady."

Minikin nodded, blinking once.

There was a scuffle, a sqeak, a triumphant yowl, and Tikkat came prancing out with a limp bit of something between his jaws.

Minikin stifled a giggle.

Glen blinked, "Well, I'll be darned. Is that you cat, little miss?" he laughed.

Clara nodded. "This is Minkin, and her cat is Tikkat."

Glen grinned. "Pleasure to meet you. And tell Tikkat he's welcome anytime."

{{I like this bloke, I do!}}

Minikin smiled, nodding.

Clara waved goodbye and led Minkin out the door.

"To the market!"

Tikkat bounced along behind them, mouse gone and tail sticking straight up once more.
Minikin's eyes reusmed their roving. "There's alot of people here," she said softly.

Clara nodded. "'Course there is. It's a port town. Lots of trade."

She nodded at a nearby fruit stand. "You like apples?"

Minikin blinked. "I think so..." There was a man with a funny hat, like nothing she'd ever seen! And that woman, she was dressed in clothes that carried all the colors ever made, the child thought in awe.

Clara grinned. "What fruit do you know you like?" she asked.

Biting her cheek, the little girl thought. "...Cherries," she said finally. "I like sitting by the rail and eating cherries, and spitting the seeds over the side."

{{Too many feet! Too many feet! Too many-- is tha' a dog!?}}

Clara nodded, "Alright then. Keep your eyes peeled."

She ducked into a bakery to purchase a two loaves of bread and some flour.

Tikkat meowed plaintively, and Minikin scooped him up once more as she followed Clara around, glancing into each stall for any sign of the little red cluster fruits.

Clara made a few more stops, picking up the essentials plus a few extras here and there.

"Find and yet?"

"Uh uh." Minikin shook her head, glancing around. "Not yet..." Her gaze wandered from stall to stall, from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar--

Blue eyes going wide, Minikin instinctivly hid behind Clara. Risking a peek back out, she surveyed the plumed hat; the smug, greasy face;, the ragtag followers... one of whom sported a fine goose egg on his head.