<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Rt15vIB.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Helena Cross<br/><strong>Student ID:</strong>WTCH715-2080<br/><strong>Age/Year</strong>19/Freshman<br/><strong>Area of Study:</strong>History of Witchery<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong>Tuesday, September 8th | High Noon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>On Campus Coffee Shop<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Nadine | Closed<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Wearing a Chequered Dress (https://i.pinimg.com/236x/75/45/29/7545290c600dcc72fcdaafc582f86d6a.jpg), leggings, and a pair of knee-high boots.<br/><hr/>Helena caught it. That simple, singular turn of phrase that had her curious and cautious. 'Favoured'. Her head tilted almost imperceptibly as she tried to really examine the woman opposite her. She lacked Nadine's obvious experience in reading people, but that didn't stop her trying. The Mistress of Thaumaturgy was almost impossible to truly wrap her head around, so that just begged the question: Why was Helena supposedly favoured? What did Nadine see in her from barely mastered classes, and this clattering meeting in a coffee shop? Was she worthy?<br/><br/>That last one had the Black-haired witch blinking, and suddenly catching onto Nadine's request for a portion of offered shortbread to be cut. “<strong>Oh...Sorry. Of course.</strong>” She was elegent and precise with the knife, cutting a neat square of the cake and scooping it up with the fork before holding it out to Nadine. Helena saw the woman's face twist into a frown and almost pulled the snack back, but held steady and listened to the offer.<br/><br/>“<strong>That's...more than generous. Honestly, it seems like too much but I'll definitely take you up on the offer Ma'am...Miss Laveau?</strong>” She suddenly realised that this strange dynamic was equal parts casual and business. How should she address Nadine when she was going to be serving as the Witch's guide? “<strong>Can I at least give something back in return? I-I could help out with other classes, when I'm free? I'm free after lunch most Tuesdays, so I could be an assistant maybe? Help out, pick up some more wisdom through...just being there, pick up a coffee, help with a spell, that sorta thing?</strong>” In her eagerness to please, and her own state of building euphoria, Helena's face was growing ever more excitably perked up. The nervous energy was slowly melting away in the face of what seemed like a too-good-to-be-true offer, and the thought that she was somehow catching this woman's attention was flattering and emboldening in equally excitable measures. She sipped at her coffee to stop herself from beaming too much like a giddy schoolgirl. The sweetness had her shoulders slump and her body shudder with shameless delight, especially when combined with her unexpected 'victory'.