[as the water boils, she grabs at two simple cups, as if made in a pottery class, glazed in a paster blue and rich honey coating. because it is the horizon, they don't have to wait all the necessary minutes for water to boil—so, she makes it so, for the kettle to whistle shortly after wilhelm's picked out his tea, and she's topping up the cups and bringing them to the table.

one for wilhelm, one for herself.

she then turns back into the kitchen and returns with a small helping of nuts; she's aware that ravens prefer meat, but ferrari and the rest can hunt as much as they like in the forest. these, wanda places atop the windowsill beside the table.]

—considering? Could be worse. [between fielding arguments from two divine siblings, to parsing through whatever is happening in this world, to her own lingering guilt and shame ever present? things could definitely be worse.] I'm mostly glad we've somehow managed to avoid all-out war.

[but, as they say, out of the fire and into the frying pan. no time to properly relax, until they know things are really peaceful, and in abraxas? that's impossible to tell, at times. she chooses a tea and puts the bag into her water, lets it steep.]

I've been working on some spells for a friend, so thank you for indulging me on a tea break. [a small smile lingers,] Did you know my son was summoned here? Well, a Wanda's son, one from so many alternate universes. He's all grown up, a couple years older than you.

Billy.

[maybe they've met? maybe not.]