Owner	Pose
Giles	Outside, the midafternoon sun is shining brightly. Within the shop, there's plenty of light, but it's not nearly so bright as it is outside of the walls. Within, it's quiet. There are only a couple of customers that Giles is keeping an eye on. He's helping a third decide on which candles would be the most suitable. "Well, it really depends," he can be heard saying. "What's the occasion? The candles for a birthday or wedding, for instance, would be different. Or if you want something that smells good. Or you're looking for candles for a spell. Even different spells require different candles." This customer must have only recently entered the shop. Giles looks like Giles looks. He's in dark tan tweed today. Upon the counter behind which he tends to sit and read is a cup of half drank tea. Waiting for him to finish and return for it.
Mercy Thompson	The sunlight is a welcome warmth to fall upon her skin as she walks along the sidewalk beyond the shops. She has a particular destination in mind, but she often does when she's in this area. There's a square plastic container being carried in her left hand, and her right hand rests lightly at her side. Her steps angle towards the front door of the shop, and when she's nearer to it, she pauses for a moment to look down the street in the direction she had come from. Her brow furrows a touch, and then she gives a small shake of her head. Reaching out with her right hand, Mercy pulls the door of the shop open and then lightly steps within, the little bell above the door tinkling in its merry way. She wears a lightweight blue jean jacket, a plain green t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and her usual steel-toed boots. Her black hair is tucked into her usual pigtails, which are a bit damp still from the shower she took after finishing up for the day in her shop. She takes a moment to look briefly over the shop, and she makes her way towards the counter rather than to interrupt Giles with his customer.
Giles	As it turns out, the customer wanted candles for a ceremonial spell. Giles helps with the choice being made, then rings the customer up. After the purchase is complete, the customer makes her way out of the store. While he'd been busy with her, and after Mercy had entered, the other two customers had wandered out. Either having only been browsing to start with, or having not found what they were after. Giles' blue eyes turn then toward Mercy, and a warm smile finds its way to his face. "Mercy. I didn't see you come in." But he'd been busy with that customer at the time. "I see you've brought lunch." He sounds amused. "How's your day going?"
Mercy Thompson	Even though she hadn't specifically been watching the other customers, she had been listening to their footsteps. It's a bit of a habit for her. Mercy stays out of the way of the customers who had been browsing, and she sets the container on the counter's surface. Lightly, she leans one of her hips against the counter, and the fingers of her left hand slip into her jeans pocket. Once he's finished with the candle customer, Mercy quirks a smile, her warm brown eyes showing a sparkle to them. "I kind of snuck in while you were busy tending to a customer," she says, a smile easily returning to her features. She glances towards the container, then back to him before giving a soft laugh. "Ah, well... if chocolate chip cookies count as lunch, then I have," she answers with a touch of amusement in her voice. "It's been a bit on the quiet side of things, today, but it's been a pretty good day. I was working on my project car," she comments. "How's yours been? It seems like it's been on the busier side of things."
Giles	Giles hadn't been specifically watching the other customers either. He never does. Instead, keeps part of his attention on them. This is two fold. One, to prevent shop lifters. Two, to make sure they don't need any help. "Chocolate chip? Those are good." Giles seems to perk up at this notion. Oh yes, cookies are good. And he likely hasn't eaten anything since breakfast. "Working on your project car is good. Mine's been good. Customers. Not too many, though." Which is normal for the time of year.
Mercy Thompson	It might not be her business -- in multiple senses of the word -- but if the fact that she pays attention ends up helping Giles somehow, then it's all the better. Lifting her right hand, she lightly pushes one of her braids to her back. Shifting her weight a little bit, she steps away from the end of the counter she'd been leaning on, and she steps over towards him but leaves the container sitting on the counter. "Mmhmm, chocolate chip. Some of them have nuts, and some of them don't. I wasn't sure which you might like better, so... I split the batch and did both," she comments, quirking a smile as a bit of colour sneaks to her cheeks. "The project cars make for significant chunks of income, when they sell. This one seems to be trying to give me some problems along the way, mostly in the form of me having to harvest parts from the cars out back and deal with rusted bolts and other bits. It's making some progress, though," she says, giving a small nod.
Giles	Paying attention to the customers is not a bad thing at all. Giles has no objection to Mercy keeping a proverbial eye on his customers. This also helps keep shop lifting to a minimum. And can be used as a reason to alert Giles to customers needing help, just in case he misses such. Stepping behind the counter, he reaches for his cup of previously abandoned tea. Wrapping his fingers around it, he lifts the cup to his lips to take a long sip of it. Behind the cup, Giles smiles. "I have no objection to cookies having nuts. What kind of nuts?" He lifts the cup and sips again. When he's done, the cup is lowered to the counter's top. "I'm sure both kinds are equally delicious." The smile has mostly faded, but the sparkle remains in his eyes. He nods solemnly about the cars and the rusted bolts. "Rusted bolts are not any fun to deal with." He says this with some seeming experience. "Progress is good. How was traffic, on the way?"
Mercy Thompson	Maybe having a coyote hanging around a corner of the shop with a collar wouldn't be a bad way to deter theft. It could be quite effective! She watches him reclaim his tea to take a sip of it, and a smile tugs around the corners of her lips. She reaches out for the container, picking it up and lifting the lid from it before she offers it to him, her eyes showing a sparkle to them. "Nuts are on the left, no nuts are on the right," she comments with a touch of amusement. His, or hers? "I think both ways are delicious, but there's times when I want the crunch of nuts in them and other times where I don't. It's a mood thing," she says. "They're butternuts. There's a tree that produces them out in the back of the property and I gathered some of them up," she adds. Then she gives a small shake of her head. "No, they're not much fun. They... have a tendency of bringing out the colourful bits of German that I know. Traffic was fairly light. I missed the lunch rush and the school crowd hasn't started yet," she comments.
Giles	A coyote in a collar in the shop would not be a bad idea, perhaps. Most people would confuse it with a heeler or shephard cross. But that might be a bit humiliating. For the coyote. Especially if the coyote is a certain someone. Wouldn't that imply that Giles owns the coyote? His eyes fall to the container and he considers the contents on offer. He takes his fingers from the mug, leaving the tea be there on the counter. He then takes up a cookie with nuts, and breaks it in half. One half is presented to Mercy, the other set atop the counter. After, he reaches for a cookie with no nuts, and repeats the process. Half is offered to Mercy, and half kept for himself. Giles nods about the nuts being a mood thing. They really can be. He takes the two cookies, places the nutty one on bottom, like a sandwich with nothing between the pieces of bread. A bite is taken of the paired cookies like that. "Mmm. These are good. German can be fun. Especially the colourful bits," he agrees. "That's good, that you missed the rushes."
Mercy Thompson	Whilst he considers the contents of the container, Mercy watches him, a smile teasing around the corners of her lips. Which will he pick? There are likely certain illusions that the coyote may be willing to have in place simply for her own safety, and a collar is one of them. She's spent some time at different animal shelters, along the way to ending up living here. As he chooses one of the cookies with nuts then breaks it in half, there's a brief moment of a confused expression that finds her features. And then he offers her half, and she slightly ducks her chin as she lifts a hand to accept it from him. Then he does it again, and she quirks a bit of a grin as she accepts that half as well. "Thank you," she says, her eyes showing a sparkle to them. "I'm glad you like them," she says, taking a bite of the one with no nuts first. "I learned German when I was in college. I get to use it when I talk with Zee, sometimes. He owned the shop, and sold it to me when he retired," she explains, tilting her head a little to one side. "Maybe next time I'll make sandwich cookies."