It wasn't that Merri was throwing caution to the wind. No, the handkerchief he kept firmly over his nose and mouth told otherwise. But his appetite had, finally, returned, albeit minimally, and he had nothing in his kitchen. Granted, he rarely had anything there to begin with, having essentially been banned from cooking after one too many fires and other dangerous mishaps involving knives, particularly, but if he wanted to eat, he needed to leave the Tower. Fortunately, Ari had helped him cross that threshold last night, but rumors and seeing his friends report symptoms of a cold or a flu did absolutely nothing to placate him.
The handkerchief, he hoped, would be enough. He would make his run quickly and return to the Tower with lunch and dinner in hand and no worse for the wear. It was fortunate that he had gone with Guy to replenish his potion supply earlier already.
If not for his hankering for clam chowder, Merri might have just gone to the Bazaar instead. It was less that diseases tended to be more rampant among sailors and dockworkers, for a large crowd in the bazaar would be little better, but more the memories that he knew lurked on every corner of the district. The captain hadn't stayed here for much longer after getting his ship repaired, having docked the Love at the Aerodrome instead, but this was where it had all began between them all the same. He purposefully kept his gaze turned away from that particular warehouse, but his body was still tense as his mind beat back those memories, but he had been paying less attention than he realized when he bumped shoulders with a passerby.
"S-sorry! Excuse me! Sorry!" he yelped, but then he stopped and stared at the person before him, puzzled. What was he -- she? -- wearing, and why? Was there some sort of dangerous leak somewhere?