[center][h2]⫘⫘⫘[/h2] [img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjE0Mi5jNTFlM2EuVkZKcFUwZy4w/mustasurma.regular.webp[/img] [h2]⫘⫘⫘[/h2][/center] [hr] The new environment turned from unsettling to… [i]Not[/i] rather alarmingly fast, and Trish decided she’d compensate for that at a later time. Her left foot decided that time was now and anxiously tapped a rhythm anyway, she pretended it was a choice she meant to make. Arms crossed with the feigned confidence of someone who had pretended for a while. [color=#C51E3A]“I get that a lot.”[/color] The punk gal didn’t even bother covering it as anything but a jab at herself. [color=#C51E3A]“The combustion.”[/color] Her lips did something she hadn’t consented to, probably June’s zen-like state. Probably a reflex smile. Fig meanwhile had sniffed the air and straightened, tufts of Trish’s hair parted where the ferret’s face peaked through to eye the raven curiously. Equally curious, and matching the click of the bird’s beak with a small yip as if to communicate. Trish shifted to accommodate her companion’s weight on her shoulder when she felt small paws digging for balance. Her hand shot out awkwardly when she reached for one of the cups, careful not to disturb the ferret’s posture. She lifted it in a mock salute, then tasted. Not terrible, not extraordinarily inclined for a second serving either. Trish was picky about anything that wasn’t plain Early Grey tea or coffee in the largest possible mug. [color=#C51E3A]“Thanks.”[/color] She plucked at a pastry near her elbow, Fig’s attention instantly turned and tiny paws crawled and tucked to climb down and perch at Trish’s wrist while her tiny mouth nipped at a small chunk that now sat in the woman’s palm. Trish smiled at the ferret’s composed eagerness before guiding her back to her neck where the creature curled eagerly while cradling the treat as if it was a valuable offering. She followed the others toward the conservatory, a room that matched with everything else in the mansion. Old, extravagant and most definitely daring building inspectors try to say anything about the potential hazards. … Note to self, [i]don’t[/i] set fire to this place. Trish approached the sand-lined circle with a wry smirk and an intrusive thought she had to fight. The smirk landed at her brother for a moment, then a shrug as she stepped over and into the marked spot like she was expecting things to go haywire. They didn’t, but not for any control on her part. The first to introduce himself was the shy boy she’d clocked earlier like a sore thumb, soft tone and all. She nodded more out of habit than actually registering the name. Not unkind, just assuming she’d be reminded of the names when it mattered. She supposed she may as well introduce herself at that, then. [color=#C51E3A]“Trish.”[/color] For it was only ever Trish, and definitely not inviting any other interpretation. [color=#C51E3A]“I set fire to things.”[/color] A flame licked briefly at the edge of her thumb as if it heard the admission like a command. She smirked wider at that with plain amusement.