[center][IMG]http://i750.photobucket.com/albums/xx141/Nicole_Irlbeck/c2a4d7fd-bbb1-42db-ac7c-f6cd7b21c247_zpsy4pxhuyq.jpg[/IMG][/center]
[hr][hr]

Roseanna smiled at her brother as he poured himself some whiskey. “Why Benji, it is never too soon to pull out the alcohol. I believe it was you who taught me that.” She said teasingly.

“We need new furniture.” Hanna said as she waved her hand in front of her to swipe away the dust as Benji sat down. “Our current ensemble may be a bit too… dusty to be livable.” She walked away from the couch and dust, her heels clicking on the stone floor. 

“Oh, please do shut up Ann!” Sabastian half growled as he sat down in a chair across from Benji. He was seriously ready to strangle his sister. Hanna huffed and put a hand on her hip. “Well excuse me if I don’t want to live in filth!” 

“A female? It’s about damn time.” Rose commented as she propped herself on the arm of the couch by Benji. She chose to ignore the bickering between Hanna and Sabastian. Their arguing was becoming all too regular and Rose was getting good at ignoring them. She glanced down at her brother to gage his reaction. Even though he may not be the oldest, he was still their leader. Benji had a strong personality that made him a natural leader, but it was Rose who took care of the family. She put out the fires, brought peace to arguments, and was the glue among her family.

“So what are we going to do about this self-proclaimed leader of our home?” She asked.

[hr][hr][hr]

[center][IMG]http://i750.photobucket.com/albums/xx141/Nicole_Irlbeck/Chris-Hemsworth-Seaside-Biceps_zpsxj4o4txg.jpg[/IMG][/center]
[hr][hr]

Charlie turned his eyes from a trinket he had been studying and looked at the shop girl. A smile broke out on his face as he took in her face then her body. “Well, hello pretty lady.” He reached down to grab her hand and pulled it up to his mouth. His lips brushed the back of her hand while his eyes remained locked on hers. Right before letting go of her hand, he slipped his beer bottle into her grip.

“Tisk, tisk, pretty witch. Breaking your own rules in your own shop by drinking a beer.” He smirked at her then turned to pick up a trinket of the shelf. It was a rough circle made out of natural wood, in the middle was an intricate spinning of thread, and beads and feathers hung off the bottom. “Are these dream catchers special because they were made by a witch?” he asked holding the object out in front of him.

There was a reason he had come to this shop, and he knew if he did not stop playing that the witches were not going to be willing to help him. So with exaggerated care he put the dream catcher back on the shelf and sighed. “Okay, okay. I will stop. I need your help. I am looking for a potion or spell to mask my scent.” He told her.