Hecate found a pot and went about the ritual of preparing tea, sniffing a few of Qebhet's teabags till she found something that smelled suitable, mint for protection and healing, exorcism and consecration. Also, to settle a unquiet stomach.
She'd poured herself a cup and was taking a slow inhale of the steam when Qebhet returned, somehow looking even more monstrous in contrast with the bathrobe. "Does that feel any better?"