A scientific mind in a hunter's body, a frosty mage in a young winter maiden. She arrived at the shop, she landed quite softly. Her footsteps touched down and she thought it out for a while. Use her real name? Perhaps. She could stay for a while. Magnolia seemed lovely, truth were to be told. She could likely spend years here, perhaps even grow old. She could see why so many would wonder and wander to be here. To be here and to hear and to steer in the clear. To open the door of this shop of the town. Early in the morning the pastry of crown. The lovely young shop baker was hard busy at work. He urked, her jerked, he twerked, her smirked. He baked and he raked and he tossed and he bossed. He scoffed and he coughed and he washed and he wrought. He discarded that batch, washed and started anew. He cried and then screamed, threw a pot, then a shoe. He cried like a mess and continued to bake. He pointed at the pastries and screamed, "Take them, they are late!"
Kuva set out quickly, her bunny ears flopping about. Her nose twitched for flair and show and she set out and about. She took six for the first, cupcakes in a tin. She stashed them in one arm and set out to the wind. She darted through the crowd and went ever so swiftly. Quite quickly she ran, or as could as she could in this city. She made way round the alleys, avoided the food carts. She need no distraction till she was paid for her parts. Her heart was in work, she used this tool for her now. She would use the money to buy a home somewhere, somehow. But for now food would just do, she'd likely buy from the mad baker. The crazy one she'd just left, the one with the raker. She delivered the first six, then ran back out the door with the four. In a separate bundle, truly, she ran along the floor. She jumped on a post, then jumped up a few meters. She landed on another post, then jumped again, six more meters. She landed on a rooftop, then jumped once again. From rooftop to rooftop, Kuva did ascend. She went to the party, delivered the four cupcakes.
Hopped back to the shop, the hunter did do. She went straight through the door, dancing all adeu. She took payment from cashier, she surely then did. How splendid, she thought. And ate a pastry thin.
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+ Constitution