Quitxi's seen the statuesque Sweetwater before, but has never caught her name... she stares into her cup of tea, watching the steam swir as the breath from her nostrils stirs the steam in little wisps about her face.<br/><br/>Something about this morning... as best as it can be called a morning... seems different than normal, as if the threads of the world are being alligned, preparing to either draw tight, snap, or tangle irrevocably.<br/><br/>She shakes her head slowly, blowing softly at the tea again as she watches the steam in a reverie of abstract ponderings, then lowers the cup to the table.  She looks up at Sweetwater first, then turns her gaze to Sophie, and sets down her tea.<br/><br/>She stares at the tabletop, splaying her nimble fingers across its surface, and feels the grain of the wood.<i>How should I approach this..?</i>she thinks silently.<i>What am I to do..?</i>