"Yes," she murmured, moving to set the tea and the cups upon the table. "Would you care for a cup, da?" she asked softly. There was something slightly different about the tea in question, an ingredient that complimented the flavor of the tea. She seemed to be the type of person who had a lovely coping mechanism of diverting her feelings into the art of cakes and biscuits, the scent of orange subtly drifting throughout the kitchen.

She seemed to have relaxed and she looked genuinely happy to be doing something with her hands. She might have been in a world of hurt, but she wasn't a weak spined chit. She had the tendency to talk too much at times, but it seemed it was easier to not do so the longer she was around this family.