"Well... There's hard tack, thumbtack, horse tack... All sorts of tacks. Time wise, I have no clue," she shrugged, smiling distantly. Working in a candle store, even cleaning it up, gave one the most unique scents. Mixtures of wax and whatever was touched.
Phoenix frowned at the mention of Prometheus's Flame and seemed to tense up a little, "It's... in ruins. The shelves were glass. They sliced the candles. Half and half and stab wounds." She curled her fingers into the bottom edge of his shirt and held on tightly, shivering like she were about to burst into tears. "It's so fucked up like candle carnage."