Chicky's imagination sparked and fizzed with the description, questions multiplying. She didn't know what zeniah was, but the way the woman said it gave it a weight, even if Chicky was mostly sure she was kidding about the frogs in the bed. Like, eighty, ninety percent sure.
Old magic, with old rules that had to be carefully followed: now that strange wording from before made a kind of sense. A witch like that? That was the kind of person you begged hospitality from.
And the woman wanted Chicky to recommend an incense for her! That felt like a question that went above her pay grade, but the woman was smiling at her encouragingly, so Chicky gave it her best shot, racking her brain as she let the way round to the incense aisle. "Um... maybe dragon's blood?" That felt like a safe answer; you couldn't get a witchier name than dragon's blood, and it looked old-school, too, no packaging or processing, just raw chunks of red-brown resin. "It's supposed to be lucky. Or some incense sticks? The cherry's my favourite."
She managed to hold her silence for a full ten seconds as the woman examined the array of incenses before her curiosity won out: "That word you used... zeniah? Is it a wicca thing?"