The door of the Mad Maze Gallery was barely open when the first customer, a man with his tie too tight for Raven's taste and an oversized package under one arm stepped into the small entrance hall. The owner, still immature in the whole art business, blinked, insecure about how to approach him. Their paths have never crossed before, and the standard greeting had been spoken so fast that Raven needed another pause to check whether everything was all right after that tongue twister.

Thus, he didn't see the taller figure right behind the arrival. But Customer One was ignoring both of them, speeding up as he headed towards the crowded counter where he let the package fall like a bag of hot chestnuts. So suddenly, that the dozing lizard slipped off the pile of papers into a lunch box.

Customer Two turned around, obviously very fascinated by a painting on the nearby wall, mumbling in such a thick accent that Raven's brain eventually refused to process the snorting sounds, making the young owner lift the head and look into Customer One's direction.

After a deep breath Raven followed. "Well, then let's see what beauty we have here..." He reached for the rectangle – and jumped back with a yelp as another object thudded onto the board. It took Raven a few seconds to identify it as color palette. "Painting or... painting" Customer two was perking up his ears, lips forming a silent curse. This was a gallery! Not a studio!

Raven blinked. "What?" The stranger rolled his eyes. "Either you buy this, his fingers tap- danced over the gray wrapping paper or... he leaned forward, close enough for Raven to smell garlic, provide me with your rooms for my next project." Customer two spun around, face more pale than the wall behind. What a day!

"B- b- but, Raven fought to retain his composure, This is a gallery! Not a studio!" He breathed heavily. Garlic! Of all things!

"And I'm artist," the other said as calm as a teacher facing a reluctant student. What was that guy aiming at? It was true: Most people stopping by wanted to purchase. Now grinning, the stranger leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. And Raven gave him such a confused glance as if he was waiting for whiskers growing around that reddened nose in front of him.

"Good day, name's Cole Bone."

"How... seldom. I hope, business is well."

A shrug. "Nah, could be better really. Portraits of animals... Hey! Don't you just - !"

Too late. The package was open and Raven's gaze wandered from the frame in his hand to Cole Bone's eyes. "Is this – No!" All skepticism had disappeared from his features. "Yep! the latter answered, leaving no doubt how proud he was. Like it was his craft. Ben Flood, Pelican Cottage."

"How - ?!"

"Oh, nothing special."

"Are you a friend of Flood's?"

A loud sigh. "Yo, Raven." The young owner found the source of the voice immediately. "Morning, Rusty Rooster."

"Sorry for being so early, but... I wanted to start working before..."

"Your trainee?" Cole Bone chimed in.

Before Raven could say or do anything, Rusty Rooster straightened up and said: "More of a renter."

"Excuse me?!"

"Yes, you heard me. This generous fellow supports my art. And today's stage is going to be the entrance hall."