{{looks like Gaulin hasn't been around for a while, so I guess I'll have to either retcon his post into not happening until he's back or try to work around it. The former seems less awkward, tho - so skip replies one and two, I guess?}}By the time Celtic took his turn, Crosswood was back inside, surveying his domain. The tables were clean, the wooden supports shiny, the free lunch was on the counter for anyone starving - today it was a selection of pastries from a bakery down the road, the books on the wall shelves appropriately askew, the lone souvenir from the winter sportspony Speedy Blizzard was appropriately a ski, and he contentedly settled behind the counter, picking up a glass in a hoof and polishing it idly when the green pony came in."Hello there, friend," he said in a genial baritone, nodding as he put the glass down. "What brings you this way?"
Last update on March 10, 8:18 pm by Quinch.