Slowly, Mira removed the cloak she wore and set it over the back of the offered chair. When she sat she crossed her legs like any proper lady and placed her purse neatly in her lap.
"You would be the sort who likes unorthodox muffins, I figured. There are chocolate chip, but apple cinamon and peach too. Peaches aren't very much in season right now, I know, and it was terribly hard to find ripe ones. I'd wanted to make a cobbler, but could only find a few, so I figured muffins were the safest bet. I do love peach muffins. Far better than cherry or blueberry and--" Her voice hitched. That her chatter was nervous was incredibly obvious. Her hand twitched, almost as if to run her fingers over the dust the heroin had left across the table.
Not one of your better ideas, Mia. You cannot be nice to Drug Gods... "I-- I came only to offer my sympathies. I can't stay very long. I have appointments to keep with my followers and all." She sighed, looking at the block of heroin. "Honestly, Marc, if nothing else you should have learned that he-- it will kill you."