Fresh Baked Bread (M.A.P.)

[M.A.P.]

Honcho was already close on his heels- though paused a good foot away when the human who smelled like Autumn did. Giving a chuffin bark, Honcho walked in a circle, sat and waved his paws, head tilted to the side. A bundle of cute, who usually knew what best- even if it had already been consented on- agreed on, his human tended to need a little tiny push.

Touch. Gentle, friendly actual human contact. Quietly her mind told her to mind the key, pick up her feet, follow. As usual she held resistance to her own mind, too much programming.

She gripped the key with a relaxed hold, as she had slowly become unused to human touch, she closed her eyes slightly. Contact- a quiet pang of sadness flowed through her..Miss Reia..Mr Sky...Miss Valentine..Mr Evan...Mr Hiroko...now Mr Unfettered. Would she ever be able to simply stay in one place?

Picking up heavy boots, one hand resting on the bandages under her clothing. Sponging blood from the old wounds, a soft breath- as close to a sigh as possible, she'd have to hold her hand there until she had the opportunity to bathe. The key moved to her pocket, she pet Honcho as she walked past him. Siding up with Mr Unfettered- though the space between was a good foot. She and Honcho knew spacial boundaries rather well- as M.A.P. had been trained to follow, and Honcho had picked up her tendencies.

She spoke softly, "Danke, Herr Unfettered."

["Unfettered"]

The Power Of Strangers

A lullaby. The pitter-patter of feet against the ground, the soft coo of words...

"Danke, Herr Unfettered."

Even as they walked, already there was a forming understanding of the difference between employer and employee. And once more, isolation. Thus far, he had usually been one to break such boundaries, in the past had tried to challenge the Pillars, had attempted to to become School Captain of PHS #259 on more then one occasion. But there was always 'her'. And the guilt he had. And then there was that roof top... Twenty minutes of silence in walking.

...He shook his head, as he stopped at a cross walk, pressing, and then waiting for traffic to permit them, as they made their way, mostly in silence, to the restaurant...

Ask her?

Why not?

She was still yet, a bit of a stranger, this M.A.P.

Turning his head... a questioning look on his face... "..Mein dear frau..."---

*HONK*

Just traffic being traffic.

Shaking his head, since the overbearing 'Custom Comfort Mattress' truck had effectively negated whatever he had been trying to say.. "...Never mind. For a later time."

Turning his face away again, as they were steadily approaching the restaurant, a good walk of five minutes away, when they got there, he intended to show her about a bit, show her her room, upstairs, the bakery, the chef's room... etcetera.

...But if not for that loud truck...