The bell had been ringing off and on all day long at the entrance of every guest, a distant, recurrent sound that hardly registered in the back of Ashlynn’s mind, a gentle heralding that she acknowledged when her hands weren’t full. This time, there wasn’t any reason for it to have been different, the soft noise clear and melodious as always, with no odd sounds afterward to deter her from her work. No unexpected occurrence to rip away her attention and pay it any due. There had seemed nothing different about that moment, that ring, and yet, she immediately wanted to turn her head. She wanted to seek he or she who bore its message on the coattails of some sudden, unwarranted curiosity. It was by sheer will alone, and the demanding weight of the large bottles in her hands, that she didn’t acquiesce to such a nagging desire right away, kept her consideration long enough ahead of her to place what she was holding carefully on its crafted shelf, its brush against the wood emitting fresh cedar. It was then that a second aroma graced her, penetrated the moment, so strange and at once unfamiliar that it sent tingles down her spine. Like lightning striking the earth, boring into the dirt its power and ferocity, forcing the sky to streak the mud in tears. It was an exhilarating scent and though she had scented something like it only a few times before, she understood its significance. Its brilliance. Power, it said. Power, it promised.<br/><br/>Intensely intrigued, Ashlynn straightened like a perk of the ears, a brief, graceful movement to the unfocused onlooker. When she turned, she knew the source of it, the origin. The man who had rung the bell with his debut. Her lips parted as though she saw exactly what she had smelled, though that wasn’t the whole case. He was, undoubtedly, handsome, moving as smoothly as a storm rolling in overtop the mountains, with vibrantly energetic, steel eyes. He was young, possibly her age, possibly a year or two older or younger, judging by the few added lines to his face. There was purpose in him, draping him, animating him, intent that still left her curious as opposed to wary, as he appeared to move in her direction. From the corner of her eye, she could see Lindsay press closer to the bar as though to garner his attention, but she faltered, stopped. Paused when she saw that the two faced each other, explored each other, however subtle and faint and brief. He was looking at Ashlynn and she was looking at him. So as to mitigate the openness of her attraction, and also to consider the impressive scent she’d caught, she turned back to quickly finish her worked. She shelved two more bottles, leaving herself with an empty cardboard box, which she quickly lifted and folded its flaps diligently. When she’d finished, hardly a few breaths later, her attention turned back to the man.<br/><br/>He was close now, a charming smile tilting his lips, uttering a benign request that she shouldn’t have expected any less of considering her present location and current line of work. Still, she had a moment’s hesitation, before a genuine smile was mirrored on Ashlynn’s face, coloring her lips, her dark gaze. A delicate inhale and she sifted through the tumultuous, initial gathering; from there, he smelled like a fresh morning, when the coffee machine woke her and she filled her lungs with its entrancement, or a calm, savory evening, with dark roasts and caramel. She almost wanted to bury her nose in the crook of his neck, to discover more of it, to better place her finger, enjoying the clean scents as she was, but every adept-nosed wolf quickly learned in childhood that that was downright rude. Still, a smirk of humor stole itself in the depths of her delighted expression, transforming it into an alluring grin.<br/><br/>“Of course! I’d be happy to help. Follow me and I’ll show you to the best part of coming here,” Ashlynn encouraged him with a soft wink of kohl lashes, carrying the box she’d acquired and moving back towards the bar. The end of it had been cleared, the flirtatious customer moving on with their designated driver down to the other stores still open in the evening. She presented the stools with a hand and slipped behind the maple counter, placing the empty box along with a few others in a neat stack. With a soft, cream rag, she quickly swiped the surface, and she pulled the ice box of samplers closer. “Have you tried wines before?” She asked, gaze flicking up to the enthralling customer, as she offered him a list of their wines, with room enough for notes, and a small, sharpened pencil. Arranging the box, which had gone into a little bit of a disarray considering the dinner rush they’d dealt with, she quietly picked what she figured he’d choose. “I know the list is a little daunting, so… a few questions to start you off, and I promise I won’t steer you wrong,” she swore, tone playful, light. “Preferences. Whites, reds, blushes, or all? Sweet or dry? And… how special of a wine does this have to be? Are we talking birthday? Anniversary?” She questioned, gaze shimmering, searching, keen.