[h2][color=red]S A B L E[/color][/h2]

	He bent his neck from side to side as he waited, standing outside of the Guild doors. Crocus smelled sweet, the aroma of flowers filled his nose. Concentrating on it, he identified several of the innumerable types that was imported and grown in the capital of Fiore. A few of them were common, familiar from his travels across the land. Others, not so much. They were foreign and smelled of their long voyage across the ocean to reach their destination. 

	"I will miss this," he admitted while waiting for Cyn.