[oh, ravery....]
Galen strolled through the markets. His eyes gazed upwards towards the sky. It had been about a few days since the party where he met Dubhdara, and a week and some since he met Dee. Lips turned downwards, the doctor was deep in thought. He was dressed in his usual simple attire of a buttoned doublet and pants. Nothing too special about him except for his hair. The auburn curls stuck out in what could be considered a big fluffy ball. The cloudy overcast day caused his already wild curls to frizz. It was obvious he attempted to contain the curls with a thick ribbon, creating a rather chaotic ponytail. A couple silver-gray curls mixed in with the auburn ones had fallen to frame his face. With a bounce, some more curls escaped the confines of the ponytail to fall around Galen’s face. Galen looked away from the clouds and towards the ground. He shook his foot, and water flicked everywhere. Unfortunately, staring up in thought had caused him to step into a puddle. He reminded himself he should keep his eyes on the ground, it had already gotten him a bad knee just a couple weeks ago. Letting out a small sigh, he decided to keep his eyes on the ground when walking and thinking at the same time now.
He paused for a second to recognize his surroundings. Glancing at the shops around him, he realized he had passed his destination. Galen was shopping for some ink and parchment today. He had recently made a breakthrough with a sketch of the kidneys when one of his kittens had jumped up and spilled his ink bottle onto a stack of parchments. So alas, he went out right away to replace the ruined parchment. From his 42 years of knowledge, he knew that he needed ready parchment and ink or else he would forget ideas.
Turning towards the way he came, he headed back. This time he stepped over the puddle of water. As he walked, he nodded to a couple of recognizable townsfolk and merchants. Galen enjoyed trips to the market when he felt lonely. There was always someone he knew that waved or said hello. As one, if not the only, noble doctor, he was well-known with the merchants and their families. Of course, he didn’t know them all, just the basics which he visited frequently like the potions and lotion shop, the parchment and ink shop, the book shop, the clothing shop (where he bought large amounts of fabric for bandages), and the metalwork shop. While passing a couple of these shops, Galen remembered he had to stop by the metal shop as well to place an order for a new instrument for his surgical procedures. Galen bit his lower lip in frustration as this thought reminded him that one of the papers in the stack of parchment that was ruined was the one with the sketch of that instrument. He grumbled as he realized he would have to redo all those sketches.
Lost in his thoughts, it took him a moment before realizing someone was calling for him. At the end of the street, leaning out from a doorway was a young man waving him done, "Doctor Galen, sir!" He yelled loudly, his voice echoed through the markets, "Doctor Galen!" Galen turned, staring at the boy. He squinted trying to identify who was calling out for him. He didn\'t quite recognize the boy as he started to walk for the shop. The boy met him in the street. He was a younger boy about eleven, his cheeks smudged with ash from the ovens of the meat shop he worked at. Galen looked up and down the boy trying to place exactly where he knew the kid. The boy wiped his dirty hands on a yellowish apron he was wearing before sticking out his hand, "I want to shake your hand, Doctor Galen." He requested.
Galen raised an eyebrow at the boy before shaking the other\'s hand. The boy\'s grip was surprisingly strong. As soon as they had shook, the boy ruffled his blond hair, a large grin on his mouth showing off a few missing teeth. Galen frowned, "I apologize, but... why exactly do you want to shake my hand?" The boy gasped before nodding, "Why for saving my grandpappy." Galen was distressed at this. He glanced around the boy as if he kept staring intently at the other he would remember. The boy seemed to notice Galen\'s focus and shook his head, "Oh, Doctor Galen you won\'t remember me, I wasn\'t born when you did it. But my papa and my grandpappy talked of you so highly all the time, i knew it was you the second I saw your curls." The boy paused before nodding, "My family name is Baxter."
The doctor started at the name, glancing around the street before nodding, "I see. And what is your name, lad?" The boy grinned before responding, "Jason, sir." Galen nodded, "Jason Baxter... and," He paused before speaking up softly, "Your father\'s name was Pelias... am I correct?" Jason stood up proud and tall, quite something for an poor assistant baker, "Yes, sir!" Galen smiled softly at such pride for being in one\'s family. He placed his hand on Jason\'s shoulder, "Well it\'s wonderful that you introduced yourself to me Jason. I hope... Pelias, and your grandfather are doing well still. And if you ever need a favor, please don\'t hesitate to wave me down again." Jason\'s face flushed as he couldn\'t help but continue to grin at the doctor. After his years of growing up hearing stories of Doctor Galen from his grandfather, who made it quite clear that their family was in debt to the doctor, he had finally met him and not only was he wonderfully polite but he was also just as kind as Jason had imagined him. The blond boy, filled with joy, hugged Galen around the waist, "Oh, Doctor Galen!" Jason cried out, the loud shout echoing through the crowd, "I\'ve waited my entire life to thank you for my family\'s well being." Galen blushed at the hug, placing his hands on the other\'s shoulders. Jason continued to gush, "I do hope you\'ll come by the markets often. Oh, in fact, would you like some bread or a pot pie or something to go?" Jason looked up at the other expectantly. Galen frowned gently at the offer. He wondered if he should. The whole situation was very unexpected, and Galen didn\'t know if he was quite ready to meet Pelias again. Though he had to admit he was curious to see the other man after all these years.