Mint
So cold.
Dotan opened his eyes. His breath fogged in front of him as he made his way to the cooking area, weaving between the round platforms in front of Weiss's kitchen. Multiple fires blazed merrily underneath the kettles, illuminating the Mirror darting from one to the other, seemingly unaffected by the chill of the air. “Morning Weiss.”
The dragoness pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted at him with all four of her eyes. A smile broke out on her face and she motioned for the Pearlcatcher to come closer. She laughed when he hesitated, grabbed his wrist with a paw of her own and pulled him through the gap in the stone counter, into the kitchen itself. “Come in, this one is glad for company.”
She darted to a cauldron that smelled of mint, leaving Dotan to warm his paws by another cooking fire. She produced a bowl from somewhere, scooped up part of the mixture and pushed it underneath his nose. “Tea. For warmth.” She pressed a paw against his stomach. “Warm inside is warm outside. This one knows.”
Dotan stiffened. Weiss removed her paw, still holding the bowl in front of him. He took it from her, slowly, which earned him a quick grin before the Mirror was off to another one of her bubbling concoctions. He sniffed at the mixture, frowned, took a sip. It sent a chill up his nose, but not in a bad way. He sipped some more. A warm feeling spread through his throat and stomach. He drank more.
“This one told you,” Weiss said with a flick of her tail. Her eyes glinted in the orange light.
“I guess you did.” Dotan smiled at her. “But I never doubted you in the first place.”
“Tch. Sure that one did.” She slipped between him and the fire, brushing him with the tip of a wing. “But this one doesn't mind.”
A herb was throw into another pot, a sweet smell spread into the air. The Mirror stirred, nodded to herself and added some white powder. “Salt,” she said when she noticed him looking. “Good for taste. Important for good sleep too. This one trades with Maren for it.”
“Really?” “Mhm. Took many tries, but this one showed this one wasn't a threat.” “Ah.”
Dotan looked into his tea. “How does one do that?”
“Trade secret. This one can not tell you everything of course.” A wink from two eyes.
“Of course.” He smiled, lowered his gaze again. Took a shaking breath while studying his own reflection in the green-tinted surface. But the courage he was looking for wasn't there. His paws clutched the bowl tighter, nails digging into wood smoothed out by years of handling, years of dipping and tasting and serving.
“You can. This one likes even silent company.”
Dotan lifted his head. Weiss was smiling, her hands busy above the cauldron with another batch of herbs. “Tancha will not come before dawn.” She lifted her head and motioned to the fourth fire. “This one won't walk in that space. Sit there.”
He moved. Leaned against a pile of sacks, one side turned towards the fire. Weiss refilled his tea when the bowl was empty. She smoothed down his mane with a touch soft as a butterfly's landing. She didn't say anything else.
He left when the sun broke through the pale clouds.
