The sugar runes scatter.
The lights flicker.
And the witch is holding -
"Yeah, like, there's a reason I chose the trek to tiny island in the south hemisphere instead of trying to brave the museum and it's only eighty percent about how I would probably be arrested for that."
"Yep! There's also the part where Stealing Is Wrong," he explains, and she can practically hear the capitals. "And also it genuinely did seem in fact easier to go on a trek."
"Thank you, thank you," he says, bowing—and then decides to get rid of the backpack and put it on the ground, to only mild protest of the bird of prey that has to shuffle out of the way when it tips and falls over. "My objection that multiple people actually using them is definitively better than one of them being stuck in a museum and another in an old dude's house and then there are two lost ones, that one stands."
"Seems he just keeps it for show inside his glass cupboard but I suppose he might use it every night when no one's looking."
"That would be telling," he says, tapping the side of his nose with his index finger.
"If you say so." She gets up and grabs her cloud pine and starts sweeping up sugar.
"Have you got a broom, because my teacher isn't going to lend you hers."
He shrugs and doesn't insist. Instead he will....... try to not be too obviously appreciative of the view.
She sweeps up all the sugar into a dustpan and dumps it out the window. "Hungry?" she asks.
"Although now that we are on the other side of the world our schedule will probably be very strange."
"You'll wanna stay up another four or so hours to match a reasonable local schedule."
"What-all do you eat? We have mostly meat and veggies in the house but I can get into several restaurants if you're a vegetarian who never outgrew hating broccoli."