"Hello, Grace."
"Hello, Dasha! How do you do?"
"Busy," he replied.
"Making more Dream Meth?" Grace walked over, hands behind her, mouth parted. She watched as he wrote a symbol of fire in the air, which condensed into a single flame that bolted into the elixir bottle. There was a light of red, a pulse of magic, and finally, pink crystals. "Wooow. So cool."
