[wanda takes a seat on the cushion as suggested, already a little enthused to do so because of the tea that is there, awaiting only to be consumed. she grabs at a cup, serves herself from the pot.

it smells delightful, even if this is all in their minds.]

The natives are wary. A mix of shame and guilt, likely because Josselyn was one of their own.

[she serves kyle a cup, because it's only right, and then settles down with her own, nursing the warm porcelain between her hands, just over her lap.]

—but Spring is fast approaching. Flowers are blooming, everything is a bright green, and everyone's trying to focus on the upcoming festivities than on what happened. [a pinch of her brows] Those who... were taken are — coping. Often listless. Wandering about. They've healed well physically, though.

[and yet, wanda worries.]