Laurel Hill Springs

That was the only sign there on the front of the store to welcome people inside. You wouldn’t find any sort of bright colors painted on the windows to draw people inside and you wouldn’t find a list of hours on the front either. Besides the large handmade sign there were some posters of missing pets or events from other businesses that were hung up by the town's folk and a small wooden placard hanging with Open on one side and Closed. It either seemed abandoned or that the shop keeper wasn't to terribly keen on actually selling the things that lay within.

Inside the store was another story. Once that door opened and closed behind you, it seemed welcoming, even inviting really. The shop seemed much larger on the inside and despite it being on the dimmer side it wasn’t hard to see in. And it was warm and smelt of earth and wood and various incense you couldn’t quite place the smell of. Like walking in someone's home and you weren’t just a customer but a guest. A guest who had shown up uninvited but still welcome to be there, nonetheless.

Inside the store were many many many items. So many it covered every shelf and even the ceiling. Little people and animals…some wood, some metal and even some with both. All delicate and so carefully made. The details on the feathers of the birds hanging from the ceiling to the scales of the serpent along the side of the wall and even the little metal pieces that made up the eyelashes on some of the wooden dolls were so meticulous they almost seemed alive... Chandeliers and chimes made of metal and wood gave off their faint little songs as the door let the breeze in. There were chairs and headboards and other pieces of the future too with stories of myth and battles of the forgotten past. Every piece was different. Each and every one. It didn’t matter if it was something as intricate as a furniture set with Jack and his quest to find the golden goose. A chess board whose little pieces looked like they'd run across the board or something as simple as a spoon. It was all different and nothing seemed to have a dedicated section. Even an item that set of chairs placed out by the curb a few weeks ago had been shown love and was almost unrecognizable from each other.

Look around long enough though and you’ll find what seemed to be one of two dedicated sections. A place for items like used shoes, some with matches and some not. There were shirts and pants, glasses and phones, and even some jewelry and accessories. Despite it being essentially lost and found, each item was displayed like it was precious. Even if it was no one but the owner it was kept and taken care of like any other item in the store.

The second was towards the back of the store at the counter. You couldn’t miss it as it could be seen from the front door. Behind the counter was had its own shelves. While the rest of the store was well kept, this area had extra care placed to it. Obviously, it was because of what was there. On those shelves, behind a sheet of glass were more little carvings of people. All little frozen moments. Anyone with a good eye could even recognize some of the town’s people up there. Though some of the dolls weren’t human so obviously it wasn’t all real people, right?

You don't need to ring a bell or anything if you need help. If the door says open the owner will find you. He can hear you among those precious things. That and he’d be able to feel you. Around the entire shop were little symbols. Spells woven into every inch of the place. It wasn’t to ward anyone off or keep them inside or even to really affect them in any way. Some who knows magic deeply might figure it out. If they knew it in their bones and could recognize the magic that was older than the sands itself…it was to keep something at bay. Like a magic harp lulling Cerberus to sleep. A thick weighted blanket to keep someone or something calm. Nothing anyone should really worry about of course.

Those who’ve been in town for a time would know the shopkeeper. They might not know him too well but they would know that he can seem a little grumpy but he isn’t necessarily mean. He just doesn’t speak about himself too much. He does however really enjoy helping and doing favors for people. Even occasionally making a house call to fix a door or build a shed and even giving items from his lost and found to those who need it. He’s happy to help, even if his face and words say otherwise.

Brahn was out and about. Not terribly abnormal for him, but he usually didn't make a habit of venturing into the busier parts of town unless he needed something specific. Today, his main goal was to find some things to furnish the tiny ass house he'd recently moved into. It was better than his apartment back in North Carolina, but it definitely needed some TLC. Still, it was bare-bones, and he wanted to stuff it full of things that might take attention away from the scratched up hardwood and peeling wallpaper. His beat-up truck was handier in these types of excursions than his bicycle -- he'd have a hell of a time carrying things back and trying to steer that rinky-dink old thing.

He pulled up alongside what looked to be a variety shop. He could see all sorts of things through the windows. This would suit his needs nicely, he figured. He put his truck in park and hopped out, tugging his shirt down self-consciously. Luckily there weren't many people out and about. He made his way up to the shop, pausing a little in the doorway. He wasn't magical by nature, but the curse fused into his very blood could sense the enchantments hanging around the place. It didn't feel bad, per se -- just a slight tingle at the back of his neck, causing his hair to stand on end. He gave himself a little shake before pushing the door open, giving the floor a general sweep so he could get an idea of what to look at first.

He did spy the hanging charms -- he was wanting to get a set of wind chimes he could find them. He'd always wanted at least one set once he had a proper house, so now seemed as good a time as any to look for one.

If it was chimes the man was looking for then it was chimes he would find. They were hanging around the place, sporadic and a little all over the place. They sang their soft songs as the wind from the open door caught them. A sweet little clanking song as they rattled. Some, that had bits of glass and metal spun and showed soft lights upon all the wooden faces in the shop as they danced.

Cap wasn’t in the front room with all the things, but he definitely took notice when someone entered his space. Always did. He was in the back when the redhead entered. He was there twiddling away on a new figurine to add to his special collection.

The feeling was different though. It wasn’t one of the townspeople he knew. Or rather, not someone who had stepped foot in his shop before. Tourists maybe? It was always a possibility even though he didn’t put up any welcoming signs and lord knows he’d probably hang himself before advertising himself on google or yelp. He shuddered at the thought.

He took the wooden mass he was working on and a general tool to the front so he could continue working while keeping an eye on this new person. Lord help them if they tried to steal anything. Cap didn’t say anything though as he sat down at the counter to keep working. Sometimes new people just come in to take a peep and be on their way. Which was fine but it didn’t warrant him actually talking to them.

Luckily for Caprice (probably not for Brahn, because he would surely be spooked in an unspecified about of time) Brahn was blissfully unaware that there was anyone else in the room with him. Certainly, there had to be someone manning the shop somewhere, but that wasn't at the forefront of the ginger man's attention. Instead, he was focused on a rather nice set of glass and metal chimes. There were little flowers on it, which felt like a poetic sort of irony considering that Brahn was a few days away from opening his own flower shop. The scariest investment he'd ever made, to be sure, but a necessary one if he was going to be able to keep paying his mortgage and eating food. Ah, capitalism.

He carefully unhooked the set of chimes and held the pieces against each other so it wouldn't make any sounds (and wouldn't get tangled), before pivoting to start looking at other things. There were so many knick-knacks, arts, and things that Brahn knew he would never, ever, in his life, be able to create. He wasn't artistic in any sense of the word, but he could put together a rather nice floral arrangement. It was all just math and balance, but he figured color theory probably played a part in there somewhere. He started picking through some little wooden sculptures of various animals. There was a fox one that he particularly liked, so he grabbed that as well. Perhaps he should have brought a basket or something... Eh. He'd thought he'd seen some furniture in the other direction, so he turned to look, and then and only then did he notice Caprice lurking quietly at the counter.

Brahn definitely didn't yelp. He would deny for the rest of his days that he made any kind of noise, actually, as he hugged his finds closer to himself and jumped about a foot backwards. For protection, you see. That's all. He felt a lot like a cat who'd just been witnessed doing something embarrassing, and he wasn't particularly good at playing things off, so he coughed a little and re-adjusted his grip on his future purchases. "Saw a bug." It was a blatant lie.

Still.

"Youuuu must be the shop owner? Lovely art in here. Did you make these yourself?" Anything to get everyone's attention off of what'd just happened, and more importantly, himself.

Each and every time the other touched something of his, those eyes lifted briefly. He might not have always been able to see the redhead, but he knew his things were being touched. It was the Hoard after all, and he wasn’t the most craft with picking out names. Which, honestly, surprised him that it took Gil so long to figure out what he was. But weirdness wasn’t a person’s go to it seemed. Even if they grew up here.

The tool he was working with stopped mid stride as he heard the little yelp. A bug? Well, that was a lie. You could run your finger over those shelves and there wouldn’t even be dust. Ha. Bug.

“Yes, and yes. Thank you.” He responded out of politeness. Though the man was still holding things so maybe he was actually thinking of buying something and not just window shopping in the middle of nowhere Virginia. Guess he should be a little nicer. But just a little.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything.” While they were in the middle of nowhere Virginia, the redhead and Cap were the only ‘people’ inside and Brahn was the ‘customer’ so it was a little hard for the attention to not just be on him and him alone. And now it was even more obvious as the tool and wooden mass was placed to rest in his lap as he just watched the man poke about, not even caring that he was staring at him. Normal people reactions weren't always his forte after all.

Well, at least Caprice had the wherewithall not to question his ridiculous excuse. It was the most he could hope for, really. He sniffed a little bit, resisting the urge to rub at his nose. It was a tic he'd developed a long time ago when it came to lying. Made it a lot harder not to be honest once someone picked up on it. He tilted his head, birdlike, when Caprice mentioned he had, in fact, made these things. Impressive.

"You must have had tons of practice. The detail alone is exquisite." He was holding up the little fox, now, admiring the texture of it's fur in what Brahn assumed was a difficult medium to mold. He'd never given woodworking a shot, but he could tell that making something like this wasn't necessarily easy. "Have you been here for long? I don't know much about the place, myself. The town, that is. Jeez, this shop looks like it's been here for ages. Is it a family business?" He was chattering on, slinking over towards the furniture. There was a nice looking chair, with just as much loving detail put into it. It would look very nice next to his (probably unusable, he hadn't tested it yet) fireplace. A nice throw blanket, a padded cushion.. yes... he could see it clearly in his mind's eye.

His feet lifted and came to rest on the edge of his counter as his hands let go of the items. The little bits sat unattended in his lap and his fingers laced gently over his stomach as he sat there listening to the man. Cap could figure out if he was nervous about something or if he was always this chatty. Could be a little of both. The man seemed a bit on edge, but people did seem to get a little weird when there was silence in the air. That need to make sure it wasn’t too quiet. The big guys had no issues with it being quiet. He rather liked it. Unless he was sober. So, there was that.

“You can say that,” though it wasn’t super clear if that was to the remark about the practice or if the business ran in the family.

“Are you planning on staying in town long? If you’re planning on staying at the Inn it’d probably be best to rent a room next town over.” The man had mentioned not knowing much about the town so why was he here? It wasn’t exactly super high up on the list of fancy tourist attractions being so out of the way as it was. As for the other questions, he just didn’t answer them. Why should he be a passerby? As for the comment. Well, the Inn wasn’t the nicest of places to be so that comment was just looking out for the guy, though it might seem rude without context.

Perhaps it was a bit of nerves. Brahn wasn't exactly a social butterfly, after all. Not that Caprice could or would know such a thing. Brahn knew he could come off as squirrelly, but it was an unfortunate fact and not something he could change about himself. He ran a finger over the arm of the chair as if in thought, marveling at how smooth the texture was. "Aw, that's alright. My accommodations are taken care of. I'll be here for a while, yet." Vague enough of an answer. There was a southern lilt to his voice that he was obviously going to great pains to smother, but it still slipped out every now and then.

He wasn't about to go into any detail, but it was unspoken that someone didn't come to a place like this unless they were passing through, or looking for something, or running from something. It wasn't a destination location, which settled quite well with Brahn, because it meant a certain level of obscurity. It was perfect, in other words. Just a name on a map.

It wasn't missed on Brahn that the shop's owner wasn't super forthcoming with information. It just made him more curious, in fact. Probably not what Caprice wanted, but an unavoidable fact. "There's nothin' wrong with having a hobby. Especially when it gives us regular folks some seriously badass goods and collectibles." He looked up from the chair and offered a lopsided sort of grin. "Think I'll buy the chair, too. This ought-ta be a good starting point. Sorry to say this ain't the last you'll see of me. I'll definitely be back." He was already peering around, rubbing the back of his neck and looking for more things he could get later. Once his finances were more stable. He wasn't entirely broke, thanks to the money he'd gotten from selling his parent's house, but he definitely wanted to have stable income as soon as possible.

A while yet? Cap just started as the gears slowly started turning and crunching away at those thoughts. He had been doing a bit of new work recement on some abandoned places that the town had wanted him to fix up. Make livable again and all that. A new resident? Well, sucks to be them. But to end up in a place like this and chose to stay? It was indeed a wonderful place to hide/run from the past. He could vouch for that. As long as you weren’t running from the devil himself. Well…guess it did depend on which one. The irony.

Not going to lie, he felt a little flutter of pride as the other praised his talent and creations. The part of him that wasn’t awkwardly staring at strangers tried his best to not give things away, was a little on the vain side. That side adored the praise. That worship.

Those feet came down and he sat up straighter, leaning a little towards the other as he pulled out what seemed to be a receipt pad and something to write with. “Sure thing. Are you wanting everything today,” the hand with the pen motioned to him and all the items he was holding, “and will you be requesting delivery?”

Brahn gave a short, sharp nod, gesturing to the chair. "Yeah, all this today. Delivery won't be an issue, I've got a truck outside that everything should fit in." And god willing, the ancient piece of shit would be around for a long time. It looked rough, but it was impeccably kept. With the regular maintenance he put into it and decent driving, it'd probably last him quite a few more years. He looked back down at the chair again, running a finger over some of the detail work. "You make the furniture too?" He wondered, looking between each piece with interest.

"That's a lot of talent to keep quiet in some barely-on-a-map locale. Fame not to your liking? You wouldn't have any trouble with branding, I'd wager. Stuff like this ain't easy to come by." He was watching Caprice, again, head tilted. The work was really good -- too good to sit on and keep quiet, if you asked him (not that anyone had). Then again, he could understand not wanting anything bigger. Recognition usually came with problems, as did expansive buyer pools. Supply and demand was probably nice at such a quiet speed, but anything more would be a lot to handle for one person.

That hand lowered and he just looked the other over a little before he looked around him at all the shelves of little nick knacks. Sure, Brahn said he didn’t need a delivery for the items but how much did Cap trust the man to get the things out of the store without knocking anything over? The chair was a sturdy hunk of wood after all and it’d only take one wrong step from the redhead to either go down or gods forbid, take something else down with him.

That pen started writing quickly on the pad as he spoke. “Everything you see is me.” Every bent bit or carved bell for the chimes. Every little twist of metal and each wood stain. Even the pieces that had leather or cloth worked into it for things like handles and cousins were him.

He tore off the bit of paper and folded it up as he stood, walking over to the redhead who was a couple inches taller than him. Taller but not bigger.

“I’ll carry the chair out to your truck.” He said it as a matter of fact. The man might have trouble getting it out of his bed and into his home but at least Braun wouldn’t have to worry about damaging anything. Or rather, Cap wouldn’t have to worry. He didn’t answer the fame question, and it seemed like he wouldn’t.

Okay, not trusting him to get the things out of the store without smacking into anything else was perhaps a valid point. Not one that immediately jumped out to Brahn, because he narrowed his eyes a little at the not-so-much-offer of carrying the chair out to the truck. A lifetime of being told he wasn't strong enough to do things or couldn't measure up in some way made him immediately jump to defense, but he let the feeling go after a moment. Caprice had none of that context -- he probably just wanted to protect his things. Brahn offered a half-shoulder shrug. "Sure. Knock yourself out." He stepped back a little, a deep-rooted instinct to not be in the way.

He couldn't help but wonder why on earth Caprice was so secretive. Most people (at least, in his experience) jumped at the chance to talk about themselves or their passions. It made Brahn's life a lot easier, in that respect. The fact that this specific shop owner was so adamantly unlike the majority made Brahn intensely curious. Perhaps a bit wary, too, but the caution wasn't winning any battles today. "You're not really a talkative person, are you?" It wasn't said with any sort of malice -- more like an observation. He very much expected a 'no' and nothing more. He knew from experience that if he needled enough he'd get somewhere, but that usually came with consequences, and the faint throb of magic in the air was enough to keep him from crossing that line.

Good good. He was just a normal shopkeeper taking care of the people in his shop. That was normal wasn’t it. Right past the redhead he went to prop open the door before coming back to the chair. He was mentally prepping how he was going to get it out of the door. He knew he could. He got it in here after all. He didn’t even look back at Brahn when he made the comment. Ooooh how a bouncing little ball of chaos would disagree with that statement.

“You know, if you plan on hanging around you should really start asking people their names and also telling them your own?” That brow lifted as he looked back at the other. It was after all just common courtesy. The guy wasn’t just a passerby after all from their brief conversation. He did say he’d be back and yet he didn’t even offer his name but wanted a conversation more than common courtesy? For shame.

“ ‘Scuse me.” He shifted suddenly and the chair was lifted off the ground before he headed to the truck to get it safely into the bed of the other man's busted looking truck.

Hm. Of all the things to overlook. He'd been so busy being nosy it hadn't even occurred to him to introduce himself. He couldn't help but feel a little cowed, like he'd been caught doing something wrong. He rubbed the back of his neck, humming. "I s'pose that makes sense. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, after all. My name's Brahn. I'm actually opening up a flower shop on the north side of town." It was a slow-going process so far, but he liked to think he was making good progress. "What's your name?" He asked, making sure to step out of the way when Caprice started muscling the chair out of the store. Brahn followed him, still clutching the other two items.

He couldn't help but be impressed at just how strong Caprice was, letting out a little appreciative 'wow' under his breath -- Brahn wasn't weak, not by any means, but he knew for a fact he would have a harder time getting the chair into his house than Caprice had getting it into his truck. The bed creaked slightly under the weight, but held strong. "I promise the house it's going to isn't as ramshackle as this piece of junk." He couldn't help but mutter -- the truck was good, reliable, had definitely withstood the test of time, but man it looked like shit. Different colored hood, dented bumper, rust along the frame. Clearly a couple of decades old. But it was well-kept for something in such a shape.

"D'you take debit cards? Or cash only?" He had both, always liked to be prepared, but some shop owners had a preference.

And the uno reverse was laid and fallen for. Deflection was always a good way to pivot the conversation. Even if the subject was true on all accounts. Cap didn’t mind giving out information. Not at all. But as long as it was in a certain time frame and to people he trusted. The redhead was still new. And Cap had a sinking feeling he wasn’t being genuine. Not really. After all, he knew very well that asking about others was a good way to keep the conversation off himself.

The chair was set down and he looked down at the new redhead. “Caprice. Some just call me Cap though.” He hopped out of the bed of the truck with a small smirk as he looked at the truck. He’d seen worse. Lordy the vehicles he’s seen come through seemed almost vandalized. “And I hope not. I’m pretty sure I’m the one that fixed up your place.” A jab to joke with the redhead or a backhanded comment to catch him off guard? Or maybe it was his way of giving little bits of info for people actually listening.

A couple of steps were taken towards the redhead as he handed him the folded piece of receipt paper that he had written down on before hauling the chair out. “What you owe. Take a look when you’re settled. I know you’ll pay me back.”

There was something on the tip of his fucking tongue when he looked at the taller man. What was it? Well, whatever it was he felt it safe to give the newcomer the usual resident bill. “That’s what I charge everyone.” He remarked as he moved to step back inside.

“Have a good day Brahn. And a bit of advice. You can have your secrets but do try and be genuine. It'll go far in this town.” When Brahn decided to look at the ‘receipt’, it only said the items names and descriptions and Gift for a gift as the price to be paid.

"It's nice to meet you, Caprice. N' yeah? Little blue house near the river?" He'd wondered who had worked on it and when. The interior could use some updating and polish -- probably left for homeowner preference to handle --, but the foundations of the house and roof were near perfect. It had been exactly what Brahn'd been looking for. As it was, he wasn't in a hurry to change anything. He liked that it looked so lived-in. It was the complete opposite of those perfect white-and-marble new constructions that seemed to be popping up literally everywhere. Old wallpaper, scuffed floors, original hardware and woodwork.

He took the receipt with another tilt of his head, flicking it open and blinking. His eyebrows rose up and he shot a look at Caprice, as though trying to figure him out. Finally, he grinned and tucked the receipt into his pocket. "I'll try n' remember that. I'll work on opening up. Eventually." He gave a little half-shrug, tugging up the truck's tailgate and shoving it closed. "You should come check out the Golden Afternoon when it's open. Maybe you'll find something worth swapping for these." They were just flowers to most people, but to Brahn they were living things and each one had it's own personality. "If nothing else, they're good for listening to you talk about things you can't tell other people." Did he know that from experience? Probably. The comment could have been friendly advice, if not for the little grin accompanying them. A tiny jab at Caprice's reluctance to open up, maybe, but he wasn't judging him. "I'll see you around." He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth slightly. "Shop opening's in a few days. If you wanted to see it."

A nod was given. Yep, that was one the one. With his craft and how long he had been there, he knew pretty much all of the residents' homes and had a hand in fixing something up in them. Even if he was absolutely shit at remembering actual addresses, he knew the buildings and their work. “Yep. Just let me know if anything gives you issues, and I can swing by.” It was his handy work after all. If any door didn’t swing like a breeze or something wasn’t lined up, he’d want to know. “Also, if you end up needing help with that chair.” It was indeed a faint jab. But it was in good jest.

“I’ll come by. It sounds lovely. Though now that you bring it up. I’ll take my first payment for the fox.” He put his hands in his pockets as he looked at the redhead. That little speech had him interested. While it was just a little nugget it was more than enough to warrant a further conversation. At least to him it did. “So, tell me honestly. The flowers you sell, is that your way of sharing your happiness with others without getting too close or is there another reason?”

There was honestly no real judgment in his tone when he said this to the other man. No underlying hostility or joking when he said what he wanted as payment. Sure, he had no idea what Brahn’s condition was, but he was curious. Genuinely curious as to why this pretty redhead chose plants and flowers. Lord…did he have a thing for redheads????

"That's awful kind of you. I can fix some things myself, but it's good to know I've got someone I can call if I'm out of my depth." He grinned, bashful, and rubbed the back of his neck. He could do some things -- a youtube video and a lot of tenacity had gotten him through a lot of projects, but when it came to important things he knew it was better to get some actual help. His house was one of those important things. "I'll let you know. I'm pretty sure I can get it in... I think..." Getting it up the porch steps would be fun, that was for certain. A team lift would be smarter, but Brahn was a stubborn dude.

He tilted his head at the mention of a first payment. He couldn't help but wonder what Caprice would want for him. A favor, maybe? Instead, he threw Brahn for a loop with that sort of question.

Tell me honestly. A warm trickling sensation traveled down the back of his neck, and a subtle full-body twitch followed it. Easily missed if one wasn't paying attention. Brahn coughed, before the words tumbled out of his mouth. He couldn't have stopped them if he'd wanted.

"Honestly? That's part of the reason, yeah. The rest of it is, I've never been good with people, always too worried about what everyone thinks of me. Plants and flowers don't give a damn about who you are or what you do with your life. They're up front about what they need and they're consistent. They're a comfort, and I want to share that comfort with other people to make up for how difficult I know I can be as a person." He winced a little at the end of that little rant, squinting. "Or, at least, I've been told I am." He was trying to cushion that string of brutal honesty, feeling slightly embarrassed for oversharing even if it had been against his will.

He had asked the question with genuine curiosity. He had half expected the man to give him some sort of half assed answer. After all, who wouldn’t? A random man asking a question as payment? It would have been so easy to just shrug it off. But nope. That answer was so genuine he was almost surprised by the sudden info dump. He had his rings on right?

His fingers fiddled a little at the silver bands just to make sure they were still there before he smiled. An actual smile before his body relaxing a little in response.

“Well, I think that’s beautiful. And I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it. Even beautiful flowers have thorns.” The last sentence was absolutely him calling the redhead beautiful and comparing him to a flower. “I’ll swing by the shop when it opens to say hello. I hope you have a pleasant day, Brahn.” The last bit was absolutely an out for the man if needed. He might not be great with new people, but he didn’t want the man to stay if he felt uncomfortable. Manners were a bitch like that after all and sometimes, after bearing your soul like that to a random shop owner you just met, you might want and out without seeming rude. If not though it was fine, but the offer was there.

Brahn didn't miss that compliment! He wasn't used to getting them in such a bold manner, so if his face went a little pink, he'd probably blame it on the sun. Yeah. Let's go with that. "Thanks." He murmured, leaning against the tailgate and crossing one foot behind the other. "You too, Cap. It was really nice to meet you." He still didn't quite know what to make of the man -- there was a lot of mystery about him, and the shop. Why did Brahn sense some sort of magic as soon as he entered? He knew for a fact that Caprice made everything in there with his hands. He'd seen him doing it, even. "I'm sure I'll see you 'round. Lots of explorin' to do if I plan on making this place my new home." He glanced back at the chair in the truck bed, before shoving away from the tailgate and rolling his shoulders. "Have a good one, yeah?"

With that, he rounded his truck to get back in. He knew he'd be back -- it was just a matter of time. Between the wonderful things hidden in the shop and his intense curiosity -- and maybe fascination -- with the mystery surrounding it's owner? It was practically unavoidable. Oh yes, Caprice would definitely be seeing him again.