[center]*~*~[i][b]Henry's Perspective[/i][/b]~*~*[/center]
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Henry hurried down the stairs of the bed & breakfast, the floorboards creaking and groaning audibly with each step. He adjusted the scarf around his neck nonchalantly, grabbing his gloves from his coat pockets and slipping them on with ease. The weather in Storybrooke was becoming more and more frigid with each passing day, almost mirroring Henry's change in disposition. Since his time spent in jail he was less cheerful, more brooding and quiet; and everyone knew it, since he was still the talk of the town. 

He reached for his headphones around his neck when a sudden voice called out, "Mr. Carlyle?" From behind. Henry jumped slightly; as few people talked to him openly anymore, preferring to keep their safe distance. He turned around slowly, looking for the source of the voice.

His eyes landed on Granny, who had a troubled expression on her lined face. "Oh my, this is terribly awkward--" The old woman began, earning a puzzled look from Henry. Granny took a deep breath before continuing, "I need to ask you to leave." She finished simply, seeming to avoid looking him in the eyes. 

Henry said nothing, his puzzled expression turning to one of stunned shock. 

"I'm afraid we have a "No felons"-rule. It.. it turns out it's a city ordinance." Granny added, sounding as if she wanted this conversation over with as soon as humanly possible. 

Henry finally spoke, his tone bitter and tired, "Let me guess: The Mayor's office called to [i]remind[/i] you of that ordinance, eh?" Granny merely nodded her head curtly in response. 

"You can gather your things, but I need to have your room key back." She finally said after an awkward moment of silence. 

Henry was wordless as he reached into the pockets of his coat, procuring the small, metal key and dropping it in her open palm. "I won't be long." He said bluntly before heading back upstairs to pack his bags...

[center]*~*~[i][b]Mark's Perspective[/i][/b]~*~*[/center]
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Mark walked Grip down the street nonchalantly, holding the dog's leash in one hand while the other occupied his jacket pocket. Though his expression remained one of clear indifference, many thoughts ran in his mind. Miners Day was today, and he'd undoubtedly be volunteering at the nunnery as he always did. It was one of the few places where he showed any bit of true emotions, and the nuns loved having him as a volunteer. But now it seemed Mr. Gold was pricing rent higher and higher - and Miners Day was the one day in Storybrooke that the nuns could hope to pull in enough extra money to pay what was due. 

Mark sneered visibly. Mr. Gold was never a pleasant man to deal with - but pulling every cent he could from [i]nuns[/i]? That was simply cruel. 

He stopped just outside Granny's, tying Grip's leash around a nearby lamp post. "Now, don't worry, boy. I'm just gonna go in and grab a coffee, alright? Be good - I won't be long." He told the dog, scratching him behind the ears and earning himself a happy bark and lick in response. Mark merely smiled - a true [i]sincere[/i] smile before heading inside the diner. As he did, he couldn't help but notice Henry Carlyle leaving the bed & breakfast portion of the building, holding his suitcase. 

"Did the newcomer get himself evicted?" Mark asked himself neutrally. He didn't believe the Daily Mirror one bit, but knew that something was off about Henry - as if he had become more introverted and cold, as made even more evident by his new change in clothes. "Poor sod." Mark added indifferently before stepping up to the counter and ordering his drink.