Smiling serenely, Witta coiled her muscular lower body and settled in for what had the potential to be a long haul. She’d come to the conclusion recently that she’d like to try her hand at imbuing stones. Which meant she was now sitting in a waiting room wondering when the officious little person who’d shunted her in here was coming back. Perhaps she’d alarmed them without meaning to? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Which led to the thought of what if she alarmed her future children? Was such a thing possible? It would be very sad if her own children wound up frightened of her. But even if they were, her love for them would more than likely bring them ‘round before long. And she certainly had a lot of love to provide to any children…

No, she finally decided after a long moment’s thought, the person who’d left her here wasn’t afraid. They were simply being rude. She’d seen scarier looking folk being shuffled around since she entered the bank. Ah well.

Tail tip flicking lightly, Witta reached for a magazine to wile the time away with, all while fantasizing about what her potential children would or wouldn’t look like. And would she care if they were hybrids? On the whole, she thought not. As long as they were hers to some degree, it wouldn’t matter what race the other parent might be.

As the time passed, the naga grew bored of the magazines available and was wondering if she’d need to go raise some hell to gain exit from this dreary little room. Then, a completely different person came in and smiled before calling her back to their office to talk.

“It’s about time,” she hissed softly. “I’m not sure how much more in the way of trashy celebrity gossip I could have stood for.”