She grinned before flying over to the fridge, humming under her breath. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Sam would have a hard time remembering where he had heard it before. It was lilting and vaguely haunting and seemingly out of place in the sunny cottage. She returned a few moments later with a cup that seemed made of seaglass. Inside seemed to be a sorbet of sort, but divided neatly in half, a yellow on one side and a deep red on the other.
“I personally think they balance each other quite well,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I generally eat them together.”
The flavor was undoubtedly fruity. The red side tasted sharp and sweet, perhaps a mix of berries. The yellow was more tropical, with a touch a mint. It had a warm sweetness that might remind Sam of the summertime. The texture was pleasant as it melted in his mouth.
"Fruits, mostly," she said, flicking her hand towards the books. They flew into the air and began to return to the bookshelves.
She grinned at him over her shoulder as some dishes flew by and returned to their cupboards. "I'm glad you agree."
"In a way," she said, flying up to the second floor. "There is a large part of our faith that actually has to do with the Glen. Would you like to hear about it?"
