Narcissa conjured a tiny single-flower vase for her flower, placing the daisy within it. With a quick accio of her shoes, she stepped out the door, taking Rabastan’s arm casually. “I’ve always had a fondness for ice cream, that funnel cake looks like a pain to clean from clothing. You’re going to be horrid for my figure.” She smirked at him slightly. It was a joke all be told, but Narcissa struggled a bit with the image, especially when she thought about the age difference between herself and Rabastan.
“I have not. They do not seem terribly safe.” She said, a bit apprehensive over the mess.