*Note: Just a fun, short introductory story. Anyone is welcome to join in!

The sound of ocean birds greeted sailors as might ships pulled into port, hauling with them precious cargo and passengers across miles and miles of open waters. With the morning sun shining across the gentle waves at her back, a certain small catgirl gingerly stepped off the gangplank onto the pier. The wooden planks creaking ever so slightly with every spring in her steps.

"It's the city!"

Mihari looked on at the scenery of Scara Brae laid out before her. Everywhere were people, all of different shapes and sizes, going about their morning businesses in rushed merriment. Horse-drawn wagons rolled along the cobblestone road, carrying everything from people and luggage to barrels of fruits. Children running here and there, shouts of joy as they rushed off to school in groups of three or more. Fishmongers crying their wares far in the background, advertising the freshest catch of the day. Old men in faded trousers sleepily browsing through the morning papers by the store front.

The young girl stood excited, her mind simply could not decide where she should start her journey. There were so many things to see, so many things to do. So many experiences to gather while searching for that ultimate dish that is her journey's final goal.

It was at that moment that she realized... She was now alone.

The small black cat paused on the corner of the bustling street, the excitement in her eyes slowly fading away.

Though this was not her first time being in a strange world all alone, the memories of her bitter childhood was what seemed like a whole different life to her. Ever since she was taken in by the merchant whom she now calls Father, she had always been surrounded by her adoptive brothers and sisters who all found their way to the small house by the docks one by one. She had nearly forgotten the time she had to run from shadow to shadow, digging through refuse behind taverns and hostels for scraps that would hold the hunger at bay.

What should I do now...?

As she pondered over the path she should follow, a familiar scent whiffed by across the wind. The steamy, salty aroma teased at her nose and snapping her out of the gloomy trance. Mihari looked up, attentively sniffing at the breeze washing through the crowded street. Where did that come from? She had to find out.

The air was rich with many other smell as well. Sweaty, salty and sunny smell of the dock workers hauling goods to and from the great ships lining the docks. Brilliant, somewhat overbearing rosy scent emanating from pompous-looking ladies quietly giggling about their daily affairs in front of a high-class restaurant. Sweet and buttery aromas pouring forth from a bakery near the square a few feet away. But the familiar steamy, salty aroma she had scented was much further away...

...Over there!

Mihari pushed through the crowd towards her destination, dodging past a careless dock worker who lost his balance whilst hauling down a crate of tangerines. Leaving the mess of fruits and pieces of fruit behind without concern, the small girl came to a screeching halt in front of a small tavern facing the piers with a pair of wooden fish hanging from the sign post. Peering into the establishment, she could see a handful of people quietly enjoying their meals while a couple of rowdy youths boast about their latest adventures. A stocky old man studiously wiped down some mugs behind the counter as he kept watch over the store.

The scent of steamed fish and salt hung in the air, washing ever so slightly through the door as each patron made their way in and out of the establishment.

Before Mihari could decide on what to do, the old man noticed her and beckoned her towards the bar.

"So, lassie. Don't r'member seeing a kid like you 'round here b'fore. Which way're you from?"

Mihari struggled to understand what the tavern owner was saying and gave him a slightly confused look, tilting her head side ways as she tried to comprehend the words through his thick accent. She had learned Tradespeak in her journey preparation, but her lack of experience immediately threw her off track.

"Umm... Sorry. I... don't quite catch that..." She struggled a reply with a meek looking grin, hoping to defuse an awkward atmosphere. She kept glancing here and there, hoping no one would notice her sticking out like a sore thumb. The old man gave her a strange look and let out a small chuckle.

"Ah, I see. A wee kid from 'cross the sea by herself." He chortled, nodding knowingly. "Well, then again. It ain't like we get any of them Catkins 'round these parts for a while now. Gutsy lil girl, aren't ye?"

"Eh? Gut...sy?" Mihari managed to squeak out a question, hearing a word she's quite unfamiliar with.

"Well, aye." He placed the mug down behind the counter as a dish from the kitchen in the back made its way into the room. "Yer the first Catkins to reach here in a long while since, lassie."

The first in a long while. Those were some words that Mihari understood. Taking a quick glance across the room, she could see that a few of the people in the tavern were quietly sizing her up before going about their businesses. She shrank into her seat, trying not to draw further attention to herself.

"Well, that can't be helped I guess." The old man chuckled, picking up another mug and continue his cleaning ritual. "Anyway, kid. What'll ye be getting?"

"Um- yes?"

The old man paused at the surprised reply.

"Well, this place here's a tavern, yeah? We got food. Drinks. Even a room if you so ever need one for a couple o' nights." He listed them off quickly without missing a beat. A professional at his job.

Food Mihari's ears perked up as the familiar aroma beckoned at her nose once again. It hung gently in the air, drawing her courage out towards the surface. Maybe this place... Yes, maybe it really does exist here.

"Um, yes... Excuse me..." The black catgirl swallowed back her nervousness, searching the back of her mind for the right words when making an order for food. The words slowly formed in her mind, images and emotions condensed into letters and sound that matched those which people around her would be accustomed to.

"Do you... Have salt-grilled fish?"