Oliver Burton

The park was a much-needed distraction from the incessant drone of work, more than the tall businessman would admit. He looked up to the sky briefly with pecan hued eyes, allowing the sun to warm his face. Freedom, sweet freedom. It would seem, all the money in the world did not offer that. He was not a man who did well cooped up in cage. That office was very much a fancy glass cage and the polar white bear inside of him practically scowled at him with disdain at the thought of it. Some days were worse, but as of late, he was run ragged between trying to calm the beast and manage being torn in hundreds of different ways. Lately, it was getting very bad. It was like a never-ending, unyielding, struggle, one he was certainly not going to win if he continued this slippery mud slick hill. The beast would always win, the more her fought, the harder it would become.

He was fascinated by how blissful and unburdened by the world she was. He perhaps envied the woman before him. He had never lived a life when he or his family where not being hunted. He could not remember a time when he was not burdened by the weight of the world. Now, it would seem it relied only on him. She seemed confused by the question which was more like a comment of disbelief. "If you are not aware of your burdens, then you are most likely free of them." He was certain she must have some degree of them, everyone did. She was happy to continue on with that same chipper attitude and the dark-haired man certainly was not going tarnish her with his own dismal outlook. He offered her a rare smile, that almost seemed painted with sadness. "Perhaps, Abigail. But sometimes friends cannot conquer all." The rich baritones of his accented voice softly reached outward.

The dismal cloud was only temporary that seemed to lift as that park was suddenly upon them faster than he had realized. The petite sunshine woman by his side gasped with undiluted excitement, the emotion was in fact, as genuine and unfiltered as they came. His brows rose inquisitively as he watched her come alive with her fascination with the ducks, something so small that most ignored. But why she thought they could be anything other than food was baffling. The predator within him, quite conflicted with the part of him that enjoyed seeing her so amused by those ducks and their offspring.

But all the hungry man could think of when looking at those ducks was how delicious they would be roasted with the right blend of seasoning. The thought of food made his hunger rise to the forefront of his mind once more, his stomach grumbling nosily. He could really care less about those ducks in the moment but was entirely focused on the food within that bag.

Her voice drew back his attention, she was clearly focused on his comment that she had a better chance befriending the ducks than the fish she chased off. How excited she seemed over the idea that she could befriend the water fowl. "I think you, miss Abigail, could accomplish what most people could not. But I think your biggest challenge is patience." He teased, his words even laced with humour as his dark eyes peer at her. "...you might need some morsels of food to win them over.. But not this.. This is for us.. I am starved." He gestured toward the food in his hand. He could not help but let his mind drift to the thought that she could fatten those ducks up so he could gorge himself on a few without her noticing their numbers dwindled. That was his inner bear thinking. He really needed to eat something. He was already thinking of devouring her possible future friends. He was sure she might not forgive him then.

The Englishman declared she could pick the spot they sat, she had free reign of the entire park. He was sure she would have been content to stare at the ducks and his stomach simply couldn't waste another moment without it being filled with a delicious meal. She wrinkled her little button nose declaring something was gross, her gaze was looking at the garbage eating pigeons. "What's gross?" He inquired. Was it the ducks? He thought she was smitten by them before. They made their way to an empty table Abby led them too, in full view of the ducks. The cherry trees dotting about the park, pedals occasional drifting to the floor in a rather peaceful fashion.

She inquired about eating duck. "Duck is delicious, way more flavor than chicken, much stronger and richer in flavor without being too strong. I think you would like it, I will have to get you to try some roasted duck sometime, or duck confit." His voice trailed off he was hardly thinking about duck anymore but focused on the food that was being removed from those paper bags. His mouth watered as the Styrofoam container revealing the fish was opened. He drew in a breath, that scent only tormenting him more. "Mmmm. But fish.. will always be my favourite. Where did you say you ordered this?" He could tell from the aromas that teased his nose and the hints of seasoning that it was going to be good. Not everyone could cook fish right and he was in need of a place so he could get it replicated.

"You also said you had a question?" He poised his fork, making sure she was situated with her own meal before he devoured the whole damn thing like the bear he was. His first bite only confirmed his accurate assumptions on the food. It was delicious and surprisingly still warm and tender.