Lechance

The party had ended. He'd seen the people of the town, if not met them all personally. He'd talked a bit, he'd eaten. He'd avoided dancing, fortunately for him. No one wanted to look like a fool on their first night in public, did they?

He'd unpacked his things into the house he'd chosen, across the street from the smithy and down a few doors, just as he'd said. Everything was in it's place, arranged and waiting for when he came home at the end of the day and relaxed.

Now it was time to work. He'd gotten up early, before the sun was up, and started the fire in the forge. He donned the leather apron that was a hallmark of his trade and when the sky lightened, those closest to the smithy would have heard the rhythm of metal against metal, his own unique "tune" hammered out.

He was making tools at the moment. Wasn't that what people needed when starting in a new place? He'd pinched off several dozen nails already, and worked now on a shovel blade, hair pulled back and an all-too-common smear of soot on his forehead. He glanced up at the person lingering in the open doorway of the shop, made a few more blows to the slowly-shaping plane of metal, then thrust it into a bucket of water, dusted his hands together and stepped closer. He bowed from the waist before saying, "Is there something you need?"

Despite it being Monday, noon found Julian outside near the playground with a leather bound journal and a pencil, drawing intently, while he periodically looked up to keep an eye on Michel and his kite.

When he looked up next he saw Michel trying to show someone how the kite worked, handing it to him. Julian winced, standing up and marching over, "My apologies, is he bothering you?"

Delphina had decided to walk herself around the town from end to end. Learning where things were, doing her best to figure out shortcuts and quick ways across town. She might need to get anywhere in a matter of moments, and it would be better to know how to get, oh, everywhere before there was a crisis or some desperation in the trip. Besides, she wasn't entirely ready to unpack yet. She'd picked a place that sat up on a small rise, giving her something of a view of her new home, but which mostly meant that she had a nice breeze blowing through her bedroom window.

For now, though, she paused in the doorway of a shop, hands laced behind her and resting against her hips as she leaned in and peered around curiously. When she spotted the person she thought was the proprietor, she smiled brightly and called out, "Hello!"

A new morning, a new town, a new start. Thomas had located a building that would do excellent well for his store the previous week, and arranged for a joiner to install shelving. A visit to a local auction house had neatly supplied tables and sundry chairs, and the till would be delivered in another week.

This, though. This was his favorite part. The crates of books had arrived early on Monday morning, and he was humming to himself as he unpacked them, laying them out on tables until he could decide where each subject would most suitably sit in each location. When the bell above the door chimed, signifying that it had opened, he turned, a volume of philosophical essays in his left hand and a rather flustered smile on his face.

"I'm terribly sorry, the store isn't actually open yet. May I help you?"