Emily didn't answer. Probably meaning this would be on her. Sam turned, heading towards the front door as she reached into a pocket. Pulling out a bit of lint, she studied it critically and spat on it, rubbing the liquid in.

"[i][b][color=00FF66]Cocoon[/color][/b][/i]," she whispered, feeling the slightest of power surging through her to the lint ball, now tied to her by her spit. It expanded and vanished. 

The bell rang as she stepped outside, out from under the awning that protected the door, watching for the moment the cloud of rain bouncing off her invisible shield. With an eye on the traffic, she crossed over to the coffeehouse, only the soles of her shoes getting wet. Such a simple cantrip, anyone with the slightest of ability could use it. One used to need a bit of cobweb, but lint worked in a pinch.

Sam paused on the doorstep of the coffeehouse, spinning under their awning to shake off the rain. After all, it wouldn't do to piss off the guy taking orders. Stepping inside, she took care to dry the bottom of her shoes on the mat, then walked up to the back of the line to wait her turn. She didn't mind, it gave her a few more moments to study the producer of that voice she'd hear sometimes when he was performing.

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[@kalanggam]