The aroma from the tea was one of Willow’s most favourite smells ever. It was something she associated with family -- most especially the women: both her mother and her Aunt Sage, obviously her sister, feeling in a good mood, or having her mood seemingly magically turned around for the better when she was feeling low. Taking several deep breaths to try and hold the scent in her head somehow, she willed it to fix her mood in a more positive vein for the day. Strangely enough, it wasn’t working. Her mood wasn’t even bad, exactly. It just wasn’t entirely her. Like someone had taken a Willow-snowglobe, shook it about, then frozen all the snowflakes in the wrong place. Another deep breath and she remembered how much she loved wandering around the store with no shoes on. “There should be a good time,” she stated, trying to keep any edge of distress out of her voice. “It should be marked on the clock so people know it’s a good time to make those call where you ask dumb questions like ‘Are you okay?’” God knew if her mom or Venus were stuck somewhere like that she’d lose her sense of balance completely. In fact… Willow just wasn’t going to think about that right now.
“Or when Reggie’s element switched,” she added, sitting down. “And Marisa’s were-species.” Her head tilted as though she had only just put all three events together -- which, actually, she kind of had -- and realised just how much someone had been messing with the town.
‘I always look like this.’
“You don’t, and I’m not having this argument with you again.” Willow puffed her cheeks out then covered her face in despair with both hands before peeking through her fingers to monitor the pouring of tea. She was restless. On one hand she wanted to curl up in a ball on the sofa and just not emerge until someone has stopped the unpleasantness (because she sure as hell couldn’t). On the other hand, she couldn’t just be still. It was a feeling she associated with needing to help, even when it was a physical impossibility. Which meant… “Yeah. I can’t not. We’re a pit stop for answers.” Okay, so sometimes a lot of those answers came from her mind and right now she was fresh out, but that wasn’t the point. Reaching for a teacup, Willow gave a slightly quirky smile. “Weathering the storm in here like a sane person?” Which implied she was not sane herself, but she didn’t much care -- she was already sipping her tea, it was making her feel better. Sort of.