The first draft was posted in full on my LiveJournal.

On a cool April day—the sun shining with a softness of color that pastelified the world—Kohath was shopping. Just by looking at him you could tell he was touched by love; he was humming “45’s Earthlight,” and his usual trudge was replaced by the unselfconsciousness that only comes from focusing on someone else.

He moved alone, though, down the street of shops, stopping every now and then to look at things in the windows that caught his eye: colorful glass sculptures, a chocolate fountain, a dance lesson—until he caught the warm scent of bread baking and knew what he wanted. He followed his nose to the bakery and approached the counter.

“Good morning, wolf,” said the baker, a short boar in a flour-covered apron. “What can I get for you today?”

“Bread!” he said, grinning. The baker only rolled his eyes at the joke. “Uh, one of those sweet loaves. And half a dozen of… nah, just that.”