Right. One question at a time. Tilda settled more comfortably into her chair while she observed her friend shift around tentatively. Soreness was expected - magic could only do so much; Tilda was more worried about what had been done to Bella's psyche more than anything.

She chewed on her lip, hoping Bella might give her something more than a vague answer; no such reply. No matter. This was quite on par with what Tilda had studied about shock. All that she needed was patience, persistence and a really good bedside manner. Hopefully she'd gleaned enough from observing her mother at work to make the older witch proud.

In attempts to make the energy in the room calm, Tilda relaxed her position in her chair and sat back. "What aren't you sure about?" she inquired unimpatiently, eyes shifting over to the window where a small blue jay hopped around on the sill. She turned back to Bella, hands clasped over her mug.