Jeremiah steadied himself, drawing in a quiet breath as the Shopkeeper's Regalia settled comfortably across his shoulders. Its subtle magic wrapped him in a composure he was still learning to trust, smoothing the old edges of anxiety in his voice until his words came out steady and sure. Where he once might have stumbled or hesitated, now every movement felt deliberate, each gesture carrying the easy confidence of someone born behind a counter.

He offered the newcomer a warm, practiced smile. "Good morning," he said again, stepping around the counter and closing the distance just enough to seem welcoming, not intrusive. "Welcome to the Mystical Menagerie. I'm Jeremiah. Can I help you find anything today?"

The young man didn't answer right away. He stood just inside the door, posture taut, his shoulders drawn up beneath a battered hoodie. His gaze swept the room in a quick, restless pattern, eyes flicking from shelf to window to the courtyard, cataloging exits and angles. He didn't move from the threshold, hands tucked deep into his jacket pockets.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice flat and low. "What is this place? Wasn't here the other day…"

Jeremiah kept his smile gentle, refusing to let the silence grow awkward. "Mostly, we're a pet supply shop," he said, gesturing to the newly stocked shelves gleaming in the morning light. "We carry food, toys, treats, grooming supplies — just about everything a person could need for their companion. And if we don't, we can get it."

He motioned to the puppy pen and Sissy's enclosure by the sunlit ledge, "That said, we also do adoptions, when we can. The animals you see here are all looking for new homes. I worked with a shelter in Central when I was young, and they were kind enough to partner with us for fosters and outreach." Jeremiah's voice softened for a moment, genuine pride slipping through. "Hopefully, as things grow, we'll be able to help more of them find good homes. If you know anyone looking for a new friend, please send them our way."

He flashed a smile that he hoped felt honest and hopeful.

Despite Jeremiah's easy tone, the young man's eyes narrowed, lips pressing thin. "A pet store," he repeated, rolling the words over as if searching for a hidden catch. "In this part of the city?"

Jeremiah only shrugged, keeping his smile light and his posture open. "Everyone needs a friend now and then. And pets have to eat, same as the rest of us."

The stranger's mouth flattened, gaze flicking from the shelves to the windows and back, unimpressed. "And… what about that?" He nodded, more dismissively than curious, toward the café counter — where the soft clink of mugs and the faint scent of pastry drifted from the bakery display.

Jeremiah gave a soft chuckle, waving a hand at the cozy corner. "That's mostly for the neighbors," he said. "Though our four-legged guests are welcomed too. Good coffee, snacks from next door, and a quiet place to relax. Sometimes, people just need somewhere to breathe. And if a cup of tea helps them connect with a new furry friend, everyone wins." He let the warmth in his voice linger, as if inviting the young man to relax, too.

The young man grunted, shoulders still hunched, but he finally crossed the threshold. His steps were hesitant, almost furtive, as though half-expecting to be turned out. Jeremiah let him explore at his own pace, staying close enough to answer questions, but never crowding him.

"If you'd like, I can show you around," Jeremiah offered, gesturing to the aisles. "Happy to answer anything you're curious about."

The young man gave a careless shrug, not quite looking at him. "Sure… Whatever."

They made a slow circuit around the shop corner, Jeremiah pointing out the key sections: the variety of foods, the grooming products, the durable toys, even the magical "omni-crates" stacked on the side shelves. Those hadn't originally been part of his plan, but his sale to Sam had got him thinking outside the box. Or rather, crate, he should say. They were likely still out of the price range for most of his potential customers — at least on a whim — but making it known they were available might be enough for someone to show interest in the future.

As they rounded the front of the shop again, Jeremiah paused beside the glass case filled with Beast Talismans. The young man's steps slowed. He leaned in, peering through the pane at the neat, hand-labeled rows. Suspicion flickered, but for the first time, a spark of curiosity brightened his gaze.

"And what are these?" he asked, voice rough but edged with genuine interest.

Jeremiah joined him at the case, adopting the warm, confidential tone of someone sharing a secret. "These are our newest additions — Beast Talismans. Think of them like mini-magic scrolls. Not as fancy or as powerful, but each one offers its own bit of magic, depending on the animal it's tied to." He gestured to the careful handwriting beneath each talisman, the labels standing out in precise script.

The young man scoffed, folding his arms. "Magic scrolls? At that price? And you're selling them in a pet shop?"

Jeremiah only grinned, lifting the case lid. "They're real, I promise. As for why they're affordable — well, as I said, they're not as powerful as a true scroll, and we produce them in-house. That cuts costs quite a bit." He nodded toward the animals. "Think of them as our house specialty. Each talisman was created with the help of one of the animals in our shop, and each reflects that in some way."

Jeremiah reached into the case and picked up a Cat Scratch talisman. "Take this one, for example. It comes from our resident mama cat," he nodded toward Sissy, who was sitting on her sunning ledge and eyeing them both warily. Jeremiah turned the talisman so the young man could see the runic calligram in the shape of a cat decorating its surface.

The young man narrowed his eyes and frowned.

Seeing he still wasn't being believed, Jeremiah rolled up his sleeve. "They're rather easy to use, as well," he said. "No training required. All you have to do is press the talisman against your skin —" Jeremiah pressed the talisman against the inside of his wrist, following the small printed instruction on the back.

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The runic calligram shimmered, then seemed to come alive, slinking off the paper and curling itself around his wrist like a cat settling in to nap. For a breath, the pattern glowed softly on his skin. "— and the magic will prime itself."

The young man's eyes widened and his lips parted slightly as Jeremiah lifted his wrist to show off the calligram and empty talisman.

"Once it's primed, all it takes is a bit of will." Jeremiah focused, and the calligram seemed to dissolve, its glow scattering like ash. At the same moment, his nails thickened and lengthened, sharpening into wicked-looking claws. Not unlike a cat's, though not quite as curved.

The young man recoiled, one hand tightening around something in his hoodie pocket, gaze wary.

Jeremiah smiled, lifting his hand. "This one's great for folks who work with their hands. Crafts, repairs, even gardening. It lets you slice and shape like a professional." He drew one claw along the edge of a wooden shelf, peeling up a perfect, curling sliver of wood. "Of course, some people appreciate the extra self-defense." He winked, but the young man's eyes didn't lose their edge.

"They come with other benefits as well," he continued, unheeding. With another flex of will, Jeremiah's 'claws' cracked and fell to the ground, like they had been cheap-stick-on nails. He raised his hand for the young man to see. The nails on Jeremiah's hand were shining, smooth, and immaculate, as if he had just gotten a professional manicure done. Even Jeremiah was slightly surprised by the results.

He slid the empty talisman card back into the case, meeting the stranger's gaze with calm confidence. "Each one's different. Some help you recover faster, others are just fun. If you ever want to see the others in action, just ask."

For a long moment, the young man only stared, suspicion still wrestling with something more hesitant — interest, maybe. Jeremiah couldn't help but let his smile widen, his confidence bolstered by that small shift in the customer's gaze.

"We don't have a huge selection yet," Jeremiah said, voice bright and easy, "but I plan to expand soon. Feel free to check back any time for new offerings. Word travels fast around here." He glanced toward the glass case, certain the talismans had caught the young man's attention, even if he wouldn't say it aloud.

The stranger's gaze lingered on the case a moment longer, then flicked to the cozy café corner and its stack of fresh pastries. "That's all I have for the shop tour," Jeremiah continued, motioning toward the tables. "If you'd like a coffee or pastry, it's on the house. Grand opening bonus. Sally, the grocer just down the alley, brought in some amazing — TOSH! No!"

Jeremiah's pitch collapsed as his attention snapped to the puppy enclosure. Tosh, in an act of heroic mischief, had managed to clamber onto his sister's head, front paws scrabbling desperately at the edge of the enclosure. Jeremiah lunged forward, gently peeling the excited puppy away and setting him back on the bedding with a rueful sigh.

"There'll be none of that, mister. I'm not ready to see how high you can bounce." He tapped the side of the enclosure, opened the Omni-crate's settings, and raised the wall another few inches — just enough to keep surprise puppy escapes off today's list of emergencies.

As Jeremiah fiddled with the interface, a faint pulse of something different washed through the back of his mind, subtle as a breath. He paused, fingers hovering over the controls, and frowned. He then reached over and rapped twice on the courtyard window. When he turned back around, his expression was all warmth and welcome.

The young man had edged away from the talisman display, drifting toward the exit, his posture casual but his gaze always tracking Jeremiah's movements.

"Heading out already?" Jeremiah called after him, with a tilt of his head. "Are you sure I can't offer you a cup of coffee or tea? As I said, it's free today."

The young man paused, his face a mask of practiced indifference. "No, thank you. Not much for either one."

Jeremiah managed a chuckle. "Ah, fair enough. Then I hope the rest of your day goes well, sir. And hey, don't forget to spread the word. Tell all your friends."

A hint of a smirk curled at the young man's mouth. "I'll be sure to do that, Mr.…?"

"Jeremiah," he replied, stepping forward and extending a hand, as if for a friendly shake. The young man didn't move to take it, only met his gaze with flat, unreadable eyes.

"Oh!, One last thing before you go," he said lightly, catching the young man's attention before he could reach the door.

The stranger arched an eyebrow, silent and waiting.

Jeremiah's friendly expression dropped. His voice was suddenly quiet, with a blade of steel beneath. "Would you kindly return the talisman you have in your pocket?" His eyes, once warm and inviting, had turned cold and sharp. He held out his hand, palm up. Steady, expectant, unyielding.

The young man stiffened as if he'd been struck. "I don't know what you're talking about." His jaw clenched, and for a heartbeat, he looked ready to bolt. "Is this your game? Trick people in with fake prices then accuse them of theft?!"

Jeremiah didn't move, just stood there with the patience of stone. The shop seemed to hush around them, even the hum of the cooler fading beneath the mounting tension.

The young man's gaze darted to the door. Without another word, he lunged for it, jerking the handle open. Daylight spilled in — along with a low, throaty growl.

Maddie stood in the threshold, her green eyes narrowed, her tawny fur bristling as she blocked the exit. Thick vines writhed around the doorframe, slithering like spectral tentacles, their tips flexing as if tasting the air. Maddie's tail lashed, and her ears flattened as she bared her fangs in a warning snarl.

The young man froze, color draining from his face. "What the —" he gasped, then shrieked as Maddie stepped forward, vines coiling at her paws. He staggered back, eyes wild, and tripped over his own feet, sprawling hard on the floor. The stolen talisman tumbled from his pocket and skittered across the tiles, coming to rest near Jeremiah's shoes.

For a moment, time seemed suspended. The only sound was the heavy, panicked breathing of the would-be thief.

Jeremiah didn't raise his voice or rush forward. He simply walked over, each footstep deliberate and measured, never once taking his gaze off the young man. He crouched, picked up the talisman, and inspected it. A slim slip of rune-inked paper, still humming faintly with catlike magic.

Jeremiah looked up, eyes glinting. He said nothing. He didn't need to.

The young man's bravado cracked, his hands shaking as he pressed his back to the nearest display. "Fine! Take the bloody thing!" His voice was more plea than challenge, the last brittle edge of defiance splintering under Jeremiah's silent, ice-cold scrutiny.

Jeremiah stood, nodding once to Maddie.

The Tangled Lynx stalked through the doorway, her heavy paws thudding softly on the tile. Vines brushed the young man's arms and legs, and he yelped, flinching away as if expecting claws. He covered his face with both arms and pulled his legs in, trying to make himself as small of a target as possible.

But Maddie didn't even glance at him. She walked past with feline indifference, tail flicking. She padded through the shop and vanished out the back entrance to the courtyard, the vines receding in her wake.

For a moment, the young man lay trembling on the floor, eyes fixed on the now-empty doorway. Then, with a strangled sound, he scrambled to his feet, half-running, half-crawling out the entrance and into the street beyond. His footfalls echoed down the alley, fading quickly into silence.

Jeremiah watched him go, then closed the door behind him with a soft click. The shop felt much quieter than before — almost mournful, somehow.

He looked down at the talisman in his hand, running his thumb along the intricate, feline calligram. "So much for first impressions," he muttered with a sigh, feeling the sting of disappointment settle in his chest.

He returned the talisman to its rightful place in the glass case, pausing for a moment to glance out the front window. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating dust motes that danced in the stillness.

"Let's hope the next time goes a little better," Jeremiah murmured to the quiet shop before turning back to tidy the display with careful, steady hands.

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