thaw {open}

[grace]

For the first time this year Grace's breath didn't freeze on the air as she meandered down main street- the sun a mere sliver of a disk on the eastern horizon. Spring was upon them, and while dreary-looking overcast was slowly beginning to take over the sky from the west, likely bringing rain, the few moments of sun were enough to begin the thaw of early spring. Snowdrifts which had been firmly in place since November were beginning to shrink, and from the rooftops of the shops with closed doors and darkened windows there could be heard the gentle pattering made by water droplets falling from melting icicles.

For once, Grace felt almost a sense of hope as the land was beginning to reanimate. The winter had felt especially long and cruel, or perhaps it was only the stark contrast from the previous summer. Grace hoped it wouldn't be so hot, she would like to see life- green grass, leaves on trees, flowers in gardens and window boxes... Though it was still a bit early for that. March was fickle, it could easily frost over again, but the slight warmth was encouraging. Spring would be lovely. Sighing lightly, Grace walked up to the Menagerie, pulling out the key from the inside pocket of her cloak, fitting it into the lock.

Normally, employees weren't sent to open for the day alone, but the owner trusted Grace, and knew she could work best before the shop was set to open for business, when there weren't any people to deal with. Grace tended to the animals, that was it. Once inside she locked the door behind herself (one could never be too safe these days) before going to the back room to exchange her cloak for an apron. Grace set quietly to work, starting with feeding the animals before relocating the Kneazles so she could clean their cages. A particularly friendly fluffy white one sat on her shoulder, purring and occasionally rubbing its head against her cheek.

Grace was almost finished with the task when she heard the sound of someone on the other side of the door. She didn't suspect anyone with malicious intent, as they were careless with their footsteps and fumbling with the door. Grace knitted her brows, she didn't think that anyone else was scheduled to come in this early. Deciding it was nothing to worry about, Grace resumed her cleaning whilst the white kneazle nuzzled against her neck. A moment later the bell over the door chimed softly. She straightened, removing the kneazle from her shoulder and instead cradling it in her arms as if it were a child before turning to see...