Krem is left to his running for a good long while. But should he look up, he would find that he isn't alone. Well. He's alone on the treadmill and within the gym itself, but right on the other side of the glass is a gangling scarecrow of a man.

And he has been there a while.

No longer in nervous date clothes, no longer in his work uniform, he strode around in front of God and everyone else wearing a baggy silk shirt that would have been a better sofa and bell-bottom pants. JW had come to pick up a new book on cake decorating and some shoes that weren't garbage. He'd saved for months and he had to take care of his dogs so he couldn't complain about them anymore THERE WOULD BE NO MORE DOGS GOD DAMN IT.

But he hadn't expected to find this doggy in the window.

He had imagined Krem training in some dank dungeon rather than a right and modern proper place full of the correct equipment. Krem had also been eating a huge turkey leg in that particular daydream and there had been a dead dragon and maybe he wasn't wearing pants but ANYWAY. He wondered how long it would take for either Mall security to shoo him away or for Krem to notice.

His nose was against the glass, his head tipped back awkwardly because of his antlers.