C-TWT-008
Barista: Julius Mendoza
Date: Feb-3-2020
Receipt: C-TWT-008
Subject: Witches
We left at what might pass for morning. ██████ doesn’t do dawn or dusk. It just trades one strange sky for another. The █████ didn’t say goodbye. It simply exhaled us. No parting words, no lingering presence, just the quiet sense of being watched less and less as we left the forest of ██████ trees behind us. Even still, just on our own, I can’t shake the feeling of being hunted by ███████████.
The road ahead is neither road nor truly ahead. It’s a path only in hindsight. Grass. Hills. Moss. Nothing more. We’re aiming for the center of Tír Glas. According to Allison █████ that’s where the ███████████ waits. The World Navel. The sacred tree at the heart of the Green Isle. And more importantly, Ériu. A Goddess in the truest, oldest sense of the word. How a ████ stacks against a ████████████, ██████████, or ████████████████? Still unclear.
Julia needs answers. Jennifer needs vision. And critically the Cafe needs direction. I can only hope we can find that with Ériu. Even if we cannot, I suspect there is still quite an advantage to being at the supposed center of this Isle. It will be a good opportunity to properly get our bearings.
We are heading out now and hopefully we will reach the ███████████ before the next strange Otherworldly thing notices us. No signs yet of ██████. That’s almost worse.
That’s all.
Julius.
Decaffeinate Receipt
“Not-yet-spotted pupıls.”
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