(Theme #1 - Cinnamon)
Kir had been catching faint whiffs of something for a few hours now, but hadn't been able to pinpoint it. That, combined with the fact that Jing didn't seem to be in a hurry to let him know where they were going, nor what they'd steal find when they got there, was getting on the albatross' nerves.
"C'mon, Jing!" he wheedled, "Tell me what the treasure of this place is! And what is that smell? It's so familiar..."
"It's cinnamon, Kir!" laughed the thief. "What's the matter, don't you ever do any baking?"
"Like you're one to talk about cooking," Kir scoffed, for they both knew that Jing -- for all his fighting skills and uncanny luck -- couldn't cook a meal to save his life.
"True," Jing said sheepishly. "All right, all right. You're always so nosy!" The road curved and ahead of them lay a village tucked into the base of the mountains. The scent of cinnamon grew much stronger, and was joined by the smell of freshly baked bread. "There we go... that's Gluehwein."
"Mmm," Kir sighed. "What, do they have an army of happy women, baking away? It smells great!"
"Close," the Bandit King chuckled. "Gluehwein is famous for its cooking and catering. Its citizens are employed as chefs and bakers all over the country."
The albatross thought about that for a moment, then inquired, "It sounds good and all, but why are we going there? What kind of treasure is there in this place?" he snickered. "Someone got a famous cookie recipie you heard about?"
"Not exactly."
"So tell me already!" Kir lifted off his companion's shoulder and flew a lazy circle to stretch his wings. "The treasure, Jing, the treasure!"
"Kir," Jing said, in an oddly subdued tone, "I'm capable of wanting to go somewhere without the intention to steal, you know."
The albatross faltered midair, wincing. Oh great... really put my beak in it there, didn't I? he thought. "I know that, Jing," he said, keeping at eye level. "That... that wasn't what I meant by it! It's just we usually... you know..."
Jing shrugged a little, his hands sliding into his pockets in a way that suggested the subject was a tricky one to navigate -- as though I hadn't just figured that out, Kir thought, sighing internally. "Sorry."
The thief's eyes lifted, surprised at the apology; the bird hadn't said anything wrong, just made an error in assuming, and Jing hadn't intended to give the impression that he was upset about it. "It's okay," he answered. "Besides, I guess you could say this place does have something one of a kind to it."
"Oh?"
"Gluehwein has the best shortbread cookies in the whole world."
"And we're going to get some?"
"Absolutely, partner."
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Notes:
Gluehwein (Punch / Party Drink. Optional alcohol.) Ingredients: Red wine, Water, Sugar, Cinnamon, Cloves, Lemon peel