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And here's a very pretty young woman who has a pack of cigarettes out herself, and asks the man on the bench with a gentle smile, "Hey there, stranger; got a light...?" Her deep, low-timbered and low-pitched voice was so very much at odds with her girlish appearance, that it may surprise the man, or perhaps not.

Somewhere...

I'm sure.

[And he makes no attempt to find it]

"O...kay...." And the young woman winces slightly, as she realises that she'll have to just suck on an unlit clove cigarette, if she wants to sit here and enjoy the lovely mild autumn day they're experiencing that afternoon.

[Not his circus, not his monkeys.

The sweet smell of opium smoke wafts through the air, the Medicine Seller more than happy to sit here and let her suck pointlessly on a soggy cigarette. Unless she wants to pay for his matches, he doesn't feel like sharing]

Indeed, and the smell of opium is actually, strangely familiar to this young woman, though she cannot quite put her finger on why; perhaps a past life? Very possibly; there were so many that she knew she had lived before, for her friends all called hr an "Old Soul" and they ought to know, all being Mystics or other things related to the supernatural... At any rate, she was uncertain whether or not to move away from the peculiar, sweet scent; she knew it was addictive, and she knew that it was technically illegal in the US of A, and thus: well, she could lose her son to CPS if any officer of the law smelled this stuff on her on her walk home.

She finally chose to stay, because the smell of the opium in the air was rather comforting, and really, what were the odds of running into a cop who did not have the current Upper Respiratory Infection that was going round now, giving them Sinusitis, among other symptoms? Hannah just considered herself fortunate that she'd not caught it yet, thanks no doubt to her Healthy, DONUT-FREE lifestyle... Ahaha!

[The Medicine Seller is no mind reader.

So all that internal dialog remains so.

He sits there with his ornate pipe and continues to smoke, blowing clouds of smoke out from painted lips as he watches the leaves fall]

"So... lovely weather we're having these days, hmm?" Hannah asks gently, with something resembling a smile twisting her lips upwards, as she continues to inhale the opium smoke at the same time that she is also sucking down the wet cloves' lightly scented vapour. "I mean, it's practically... Indian summer, almost, isn't it? Hard to believe it's nearly -- mmm -- November, with weather like this, hmmm?"

I would not know.

I am foreign.

The weather is agreeable.

[There's a feline laying in a spot of sun nearby. At least, it appears to be feline. It's the form she prefers, and even her real form while humanoid has feline aspects to it, but that's neither here nor there at the moment.

She's also a powerful empath, with very minor magical skills. Not that she's used them for a very long time beyond using a tiny amount of empathy to keep herself away from people who might be a threat to her.

Right now though? The smell of the smoke wakes her. She glances towards the man, blinking a little in the sun.]

[Well if he notes anything exceptionally strange, he gives no impression of it.

Slate blue eyes just watch the large feline, half lidded and drowsy, smoke curling up through the air.

He does like cats.

But he is a big fan of 'look, do not touch']

[The smoke smells interesting. She's a little curious about it. So, naturally, after a good stretch she creeps a little closer, watching it curl through the air.]