March is hunched over his desk, an almost constant scowl on his brow as he carefully traces the lines of one of his new projects. The air in the small workshop is stifling, the heat of the fire and the smell of leather making it hard to breathe.

March curses under his breath and leans back, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. The door to the establishment opens, and March looks up with an amiable grimace to see who it is.

"How is it that I always see you running around town? Don't you have work to do?" He grunts, wiping charcoal from his hands as he rises from the table.

It's you, the new farmer in town. The two of you haven't spoken much as running the farm and following Adeline's errands keep you pretty busy, but he knows all too well who you are. Somehow your name always comes up when he talks to any of the few people he considers friends in this town. He doesn't understand what is so interesting about you.