The Collinsport Inn has a small coffee shop open until 10 that functions as a regular little diner, if one doesn't want anything fancy. Maybe some pie. Mm, pie.

It could be a good place to run into other people, perhaps especially other guests of the inn.

A gentleman sat at a table nusing a apple pie. The amber haired gentleman's emerald eyes were castes into a shadow by a flat cap. It was strange, pie usually did the trick for Bigby's spirit but here he sat far from uplifted and farther from whatever he considered home. If one was even waiting for him.

Bigby looked around giving a warm smile to the server in appreciation for the pie, it was good, if a little old. The gentleman sat back and wondered if Collinsport would hold what he sought or if it was yet another stop on his journey.

Prof. Willoughby held back the coffee shop's swinging door and let the young governess in before entering himself.



"Indeed, the family has a rich and ancient history. Genealogy of New England is my main professional (and personal) interest."

"Although, I must admit, right now I'm also deeply interested in the pies they serve here," he added with a smile.

"Let us sit here, perhaps," he said, and picked a place a few tables away from the dining gentleman, to give him some personal space.