Open Flour and Fire
The Maddox Bakery was simple. It wasn't decorated with flowers or had anything eye catching to set it apart from any other bakery in the world. It had a couple of large ovens in the back, a great space to work, and a counter with which to let customers order and pay. Not to mention the living space over head.

Like the bakery, Lewis was simple. That didn't mean he wasn't competent or less than any other he just didn't believe in frills. The large man placed a tray into one oven after taking another out. He enjoyed the way the tarts smelled but then heard the creak of the door and footsteps. He stepped up to the counter and looked at the newcomer before grabbing a small pad of paper and a pen. "What can I get you."
He strapped the babe to his back in what fashion he could conjure from the detritus left within the abandoned farm house. The basket tied with coarse rope to fasten her. A protective blanket around her inside, then hay stuffed in an outer layer, sticking through the withered weave.

Llŷr in the doorway, his hair overgrown and wiry, looking round the bakery like he hadn’t seen food in weeks. Fumbling his fingers around the scant coin in his pocket.

“Err... Do you have anything for... do you know what here could be good for... a child without teeth grown in yet?” Slightly monotonic from lack of sleep, dark circles under his eyes.
The man was silent, his dark eyes watched the man for a moment. He walked towards him but moved to check the baby. His head tilted as he gazed at it then at the man. He turned and disappeared into the back. With a scraping sound, he returned, dragging a chair behind him. He placed it before the counter and pointed towards it.

"Sit. It will take a while." He put down a tin cup full of water for the man. He went to the back where he went through his supplies and then frowned more in realization. He pointed to the man. "Don't take anything." He knew if he was a thief, he'd do it regardless, but it still had to be said. He went to a shop only a few doors away. He returned with the products in a bag. It was several long silent minutes before Lewis stood before him with a baby bottle. He held it out to him. But before Lewis returned to his spot behind the counter, he grabbed a small plate and placed a fork and one of his meat pies upon it and put it beside the man.

"You look like you need a meal too."
Eyes darting. He looked at the cup and frowned as the baker busied himself. There was no motive for trickery, yet still his nerves set him stiff.

After coaxing, he made his legs go, and took his child from off his back to sit her on his lap in the offered place. Too edgy to drink. Too tired to think.

He clutched Wren, who squirmed and reached for the shiny cup. When the man returned,s she reached for him and his pie instead.

Llŷr stared at the bottle. "You have those on hand?" Too stunned to thank him.
Lewis shook his head and leaned on his elbows in the counter. He jerked his chin to the left. "Shop not far down has mixed wares. I picked one up. Made the formula myself. Not perfect but the babi won't starve."

He watched him for a few seconds. "Eat too. You need your strength to take care of him or her. Passing through?" He rose a brow at the man who wasn't partaking in his generosity. Something else nagged at him. "You're Welsh?"
He took the bottle and gave it to Wren, holding it at what he hoped was the right angle. "That's a lot of effort for a stranger." The 'thank you' hung unsaid in the air. He was saving it for later.

"Yes, half. How did you know?"
Lewis shrugged, "Something in your voice.." He said simply and watched him feed the kid. He looked puzzled. "I don't like seeing a kid starve. You gotta hold the bottle more or it'll get bubbles. You don't want the kid swallowing air." He waved his hand. "If you feel like you owe me, sweep up the shop later."
"Gah." He tried to rearrange her in his lap, she resisted, ravenous. He held her back and tried to note the angle of the milk in the bottle. "Like this?" He'd sweep, he'd shine shoes, he'd do anything.
The large stoic man almost seemed to smile at his panic. He gave him a little nod, "You just saved your child a big upset stomach later.. It is your child, right?" He said, his voice dropping seriously again.
Exhaling in relief, he relaxed his posture, "Good... Yes, she's mine." He felt odd saying it aloud. She was, though. But still, he was in haze.
"Ah. Cute kid. "Lewis said. "Might I ask where her mother is?" He arched his brow but wasn't about to push. He looked around for a few minutes behind the counter and started to put down some wiping cloths. These were clean and neatly folded. "I think you can use six. I'm not giving you all of mine."
"I don't know where she is." Flatly. "Thank you." More sincerely, briefly making eye contact. "You are a generous man."
Lewis waved him off and a short furred cat came to see what was up. Or perhaps, he was curious about the smell of milk. The cat hopped onto the counter for a closer look at the baby and he grabbed it gently, also not wanting him to get into the man's food he'd left for him.

"Sorry to hear that. I just don't like to see kids suffer. Their parents neither." Of course a lot of kids and their parents around there could go jump into a frozen lake, but when they were young he would have been more willing to help.

"I'm Lewis." He said as he pet his cat who stared at the bottle and he had to make sure he had no ideas.
He felt responsible, and didn't know what to say to defend himself; there wasn't much.

He gave Wren a little break from the bottle to eat himself. Cracking a stiff smile at the cat. "I'm Llŷr."
Lewis gave him a small nod. "Nice to meet you. " He decided since there were no other customers, he could sit. He grabbed a chair to sit on the other side of the counter and rest his cane against the wall. "How you end up here? You seem lost."

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