<div class="floatleft">(http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg481/indytims/connor_zpscd597627.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Theodore 'Theo' Munn</strong><br/><strong>Species/Element:</strong>Werebear<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Dark-colored t-shirt (same as picture, but clean and no sweaty. ;) ), clean blue-jeans, black hiking boots.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>August 1st, around noon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Town Square - Bakery<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>open, Christa (by name)<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Theo flipped the sign on the inside of his shop door so that the lettering could be clearly read on the outside: "CLOSED FOR LUNCH, BE BACK IN 1 HOUR". He stepped outside, locked the door, and then headed down the street. It was lunch time and he was having a serious hankering for some fresh bread, and maybe even an apple turnover if they had the ones with the icing, today. Sometimes they didn't. Sometimes their turnovers were 'plain'. What kind of baker makes apple turnovers without -icing-?<br/><br/>Pondering this along with other things, he casually made his way down the street, enjoying the day so far. The morning had moved along quickly, and he had actually made a few good sales. He wasn't in this business to 'get rich', and he thoroughly enjoyed the subject matter: old books, antiques, and other such oddities the caught his eye. He was curious by nature, which, given his bloodline, wasn't surprising. When there weren't any customers in the store, he'd be cleaning or sorting, organizing or researching. He loved using the internet to help him with the research, especially, but he had learned long ago that the internet was -not- always accurate, despite popular societal belief.<br/><br/>His nose flared - he could smell the familiar and warm scents of the bakery from several blocks away, and he was suddenly grateful that the bakery wasn't any closer to his shop, or he'd be -constantly- distracted. His eyes wanted to close as he simply bathed in the aroma, but instead, his steps just grew quicker as he felt his stomach rumble.<br/><br/>As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, catching another familiar scent.<br/><br/>It was -her-.<br/><br/>He smiled faintly for a moment, then took a breath.<br/><br/>Christa was someone he had met very soon after moving into town about three years prior, and she was a frequent customer at his store. Theo -knew- there was something -different- about her, as her scent was... off, and was quite a bit different than 'normal' human. She had sensed something different about him, as well, and their first few meetings had been a bit... tense, to say the least, though neither of them had ever shown a single bit of aggression towards the other. They would talk for a bit, and he enjoyed talking with her, but they didn't meet outside her visits to his store. Sometimes her visits would be short, sometimes she'd stick around awhile, depending on whether something caught her eye or not.<br/><br/>He had the suspicion that she knew what he was, and he had a pretty good idea what she was - and that was good enough for them.<br/><br/>She was also beautiful. -Intimidatingly- beautiful, in his eyes, the type of girls you read about in the glam world and who dated professional athletes and musicians. That was saying a lot, since Theo was someone who was not intimidated by -anything- or -anyone-. Many times had he hoped that her 'abilities' - whatever they were - would not allow her to read his mind, for if she could, she likely would not have been very pleased to see what she would find there. Still, he had never gotten up the nerve to ask her out. Hell, she could be married or something for all he knew. But something told him because of their 'awareness' of each other, she wouldn't likely be receptive to any approach he made towards her, or at least so he assumed.<br/><br/>Theo stepped through the door into the bakery, where the scents pounded him. He glanced to the side and immediately saw Christa, as he had expected. Forgetting the rumbling of his stomach for a moment, he paid attention to her first.<br/><br/><strong>"Afternoon, Christa,"</strong>he said pleasantly with a smile, giving her a little wave as he made his way casually to the counter, as if to glance over the menu. He already knew what he wanted - he ordered the same thing every time - but looking over the menu would allow him to stall and possibly converse with Christa a bit without seeming weird or too forward.<br/><br/><br/><br/>