A Tisket, A Tasket
She was the Sheriff of Piltover. A title she wore with pride, a patriotism in her blood and bones. She was a sharpshooter, a keen mind, a diplomatic force to be reckoned with, and a figurehead of the great nation that she served.
She also made cupcakes. They were legendary, though whether solely from her talent as a baker or because they were attached to her title as Sheriff, who could say?
There were two of them in the basket she carried, carefully nestled so as not to smear the icing over the other other contents of the basket. There were some homemade jams, a small bag of scones, a container of ham slices, a box of water crackers, a tin of smoked salmon, a loaf of crusty bread, even a small box containing a sample of one of her favourite teas. A carefully-curated selection of afternoon tea Or, at the very least, some snacks to tide over someone who might otherwise need to keep working.
This was not, strictly-speaking, one of the duties of the Sheriff, or even of a sheriff. It was, perhaps, something a friend could do for another. Perhaps. She was, admittedly, a little out of practice, as well as feeling markedly self-conscious as she approached the security gate.
She carefully checked the basket had not been unsettled during her walk, then tapped a finger on the bell. She did not visit homes. This would very likely be an awkward visit, and thus a short one. That... would be fine. She just needed to know he was doing alright.
A welfare check fell under the scope of her duties. Yes. Of course. But he was a friend. She hadn’t visited a friend in a while. @jayceofpiltover
