brew-tea-ful

It was the pungent scents of herbs that drew Pythia out into the crisp air that day. Her mother's scent along with her sister's weren't surprising, but indeed welcoming. Would it be another lesson like the one with the beads and feathers? Perhaps something more interesting? Canting her head slightly to the side as she approaches cautiously, her paws dragging through the damp grass, Pythia isn't scared to come all the way up to the spot where Modesty is setup. Practically shoving her nose toward the different pots and jars, it's quick to wrinkle from how strong everything was.

"Mother, please tell me these taste better than they smell," Pythia's soft tones are still sharp and deliberate for a pup as young as she. Unlike her soft spoken sister, she isn't afraid to speak what is on her mind. Taking a seat but not before giving her fluffy coat a good shake, she sits tightly with paws close to her belly and curled tail wrapped around her legs.

"speech"