A jog downtown...

[Wolven Pryde]

Locke's hand comes out of his pocket to accept the handshake. "And you as well, Ion."

His large hand, with thick, meaty fingers and knobby knuckles, is more dusty than dirty. A thin trace of the soil that the cloth could not fully erase. But it is dry enough that very little would actually make the transition from Locke's palm to hers.

The smile that plays on his features is quick, and fades quickly, but one can easily see that it is genuine. After their hands part, he gestures casually to the flower cart before returning his to the pant pocket. "Care for a flower? If you are not in the market for a plant to take responsibility for, you can look for adornment, instead. The Bellflower blossom would compliment your hair color. Or the Marigold, stand out strikingly."

[Whisper]

A smirk briefly teases her lips as she thinks the offer is cute. "Thank you but no thanks. Not the flower type of gal..." Ion's hand moves across her headphone cord as she winds the earbud to her hand.

"It is good meeting you. Sure I will see you around..." Ion says as she places the earbud back into her ear, and then retrieves her phone out to start up the music again.

[Wolven Pryde]

There is that subtle pull at the side of Locke's face again, that suggests a smile. Though, one never fully forms. Half of one does, at any rate. "I never was a 'flower type of guy' either, Ion. You would be surprised to find what you can learn to like."

Or where you can find peace.

"I still think you could find one you fancy. But suit yourself." The hardness in his voice is only natural, and is not meant to be unfriendly. The warmth of his accent helps a little. "It was a pleasure. Enjoy your jog."

Locke lifts a massive hand in farewell, neither waving it or really even raising it to chest height. Yet, there is an equal sense that he enjoyed the chance encounter, and would hardly mind repeating it in the future.

Oh well, he tried.

Technically that was a success. No one got angry. Or... damaged.