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[specifics]

Never liked this tradition. I mean, I'd rather not take orders from a plant. Seriously, just...

[ - annnnd, some subsequent mumbling, as well as the words - you know it's a parasite are articulately audible but not much else before the device turns off. ]

[ ooc/accosting reference: Arthur today will have been in order - getting coffee,

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[adamantined]

[Less capable of actually barreling, the Pomeranian Claire currently has a still-white-knuckled grip on rolls after the corgi rather than follows him. She tries to pick him up and right him, but the bend at her waist only proves to be a wasted effort as Mr. Muggles squirms his way right again and takes off on clicking toes to catch up with his newly acquired canine friend. He's not typically so social with other dogs, so Claire allows him the opportunity to be less diva and more follower, hardly minding the tug at her wrist, since it feels like she might just have a squirrel attached to the end of the leash, with as much as her dog weighs.

For her part, Claire only puts a hand on Arthur's arm in a quick attempt to steady herself, even if it might not be necessary. The smell of food hits her hard and something in her stomach gives way to hunger she hadn't realized was there, and she's reminded to eat something, which may or may not be appropriate given the words that have just come out of his mouth. Her smile is quick and bright but more a courtesy, a flashy reflex, than anything genuinely honest. Still, it's there.]

I'd be concerned if you encouraged it, to be honest. [Using her fingers wrapped in the fabric of his jacket as a sort of handshake, she looks at the dogs while she addresses him.] You're... it's... Arthur, right? Am I wrong?

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[specifics]

Nope. Arthur's right. And you're... [ Honestly he has to dig for it for a second, but Arthur tries very hard not to forget anyone he has spoken to (still guilty of it a couple times anyway) and a moment later, still being tugged (well, letting himself be tugged) by Pancake, the name finally comes to him. ] Claire. Claire who was thinking of starting a business...of some kind. [ Okay he's not absolutely on his game unfortunately, since that's pretty vague considering the size of the City, the density of its population, the probability of there being more than one Claire not low but the one of there being a Claire who sounds young and entrepreneurial exponentially more so. He returns her smile, a similar proficiency in politeness as a reflex.

And ordinarily it would end there, but the damnable call of food to the dogs and their owners being amenable to Letting Them Do Whatever They Want - within reason - means he and Claire now stand just under the jutting roof of the cafe, a cute whimsical sort of look overall to the storefront - the roof being green shingled and protruding from worn red brick. The window is decked out with lights that twinkle in variations of pastels and it's charming in a small town way that's completely incongruous with the City's metropolitan take. Arthur has a moment to note that he surprises himself by liking it before he leans down - really, down - to press his mouth to Claire's.

It's not vehement or demanding, nothing in the compulsion eliciting this thankfully, but almost the softness there is somehow worse, something sweet there not meant for each other at all, but it speaks loudly: that the endearment exists for someone, the angling of lips just so and the frame of his free hand at her cheek. ]