#farrah.starter

Sickeningly sweet. That was the only way she could describe the taste within her mouth and fill her gut, much like a child having their hands in the candy jar. The whole city of Corinth had that aura about it and Farrah wondered how many in its limits could sense it, onyx gaze fluttering from one face to the other as she sipped on a chai latte. She had always loved the spices, the aroma of cardamom and the unique taste of star anise. Immediately the rift was met with memories of when she would hoard the spices away for only herself when trade wasn’t as plentiful. Those days seemed to be long over, having seen at least two serving something that held its name. Honey, or something of the sort, coated her tongue instead of the usual creamy milk and the sharpness of black peppercorn. She had settled on Anxietea without much reason besides natural curiosity (who needed tranquility anyhow?), but much like the indole scent that hung in the air— there was just something off about it. Maybe it was the way the drink instead reminded her of the spiced mead they would offer Persephone all those years ago. “Mh—” she let out a displeased snort before whispering, “This is considered tea?”