Mmm. [ There's the sound of creaking wood as she shifts in her chair, of cotton sliding on worn silk as she tucks her legs up under her. The dull clink of ceramic from her mug of tea. The potion will take some time and she wearies of looking at her notes. This is...strange, but preferable. ]

Is that a thing one has as an adult? There are colors I find myself in more often than not, blues and whites which comes as no surprise as they belong as much to the Spire as they do my family's crest- red on occasion but that is less a choice and more an occupational hazard.

[ As a healer she ends up covered in red more often than not, should things be dire. ]