[color=lightskyblue]𝕎  𝕚  𝕝  𝕝  𝕠  𝕨[/color]

People all around. Drinks in hand. Chitter-chatter everywhere.

Willow sits with her back to the wall, in the front left corner of Mooncash where the windows end. It’s her first choice of spots when it hasn’t been seized by anyone else. And it’s busy today - she’s lucky this time.

Without the burden of schoolwork present, Willow’s free to draw with no interruptions. She flips through her sketchbook, stopping briefly at an old piece she’d done of Helen. It’s her, in her work apron, holding a cup of coffee with her right hand hovering above it, weaving the steam into a hex. The sketch lines are still somewhat visible in the steam, roughly erased to try and give it the right look. Two floating eyes hover to Helen’s left and right sides, and one lies on the surface of the cup. Below the drawing is the title [i]‘Witch’s Brew’[/i].

Once, years ago, Helen had the idea to manifest an eye upon Willow’s sketchbook, which she held out as she flew as a ghost above Leesburgh. Helen could see everything from a bird’s eye view. A pleasant experience. A fond memory.

Sometimes, Willow wishes she could take her - and others - with her, into the ether, with a touch of a hand. Just so they could feel the weightlessness.

The freedom.

She has a few hours to kill. She hasn’t ordered anything yet. She usually just lets Helen surprise her with something, and then pays for it. Willow isn’t really a ‘coffee person’ - she doesn’t like the bitterness. Sweet is better.

She starts drawing little people made out of wire and clockworks.