(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

That thunderstorm the other day had kept Sunshine indoors - she'd brought out the big guns, so to speak, and cleaned her rooms to chase away the blues.

Today, though, has been gloriously bright. And Rae isn't one to miss an opportunity.

So there is a baker, in an tangerine-hued tank-top and deep purple jean shorts, flopped unceremoniously on a large rock at the edge of the lake, seeing to the very serious business of soaking in the sunlight.

It's clearly occupying all of her concentration. That, or she's fallen asleep.

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

"Yeah," she replies with a grin. "I've been Head Baker at my step-father's coffeehouse for nearly a decade, and I've been selling my baked goods here every so often to pay for my tab for the last few years as well."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton considers this thoughtfully while attending to his jeans. "I don't think I've ever actually met a baker. Eaten a lot of baked goods, but generally from Bar."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Then you're in for a treat," she smiles.

Because there are a few cinnamon rolls-as-big-as-your-head left from this morning, and she's pretty generous when it comes to giving potential customers free samples. Her cinnamon rolls by general consensus are extremely localized miracles, at least to judge by the usual reaction to them.

[stuck_mynock]

"I do like treats," Atton says gravely. "Do I have to do anything for it, or ... ?"