"Short and long, permanent and past and present," Caia replied as they continued to watch the way Violet moved about the space. When one of the spell bottles fell from shelf to smash to pieces on the floor, they sidestepped the blue smoke and liquid with a rise of the brows.
"You're not too used to taking care of this shop, are you?" they asked with a chuckle. "Why did your uncle leave you in charge again?" they teased.
"I see. Well, it's a good job I aim to please - what you ask for is a rare concoction, that only the finest of potion masters can craft." She grins. Violet may not be good at brewing the potions herself, but she liked to add a flare to selling - at least, when she was actually in the mood to do so. But, Caia seemed interesting enough to take her interest - for now.
Stepping out of the way of the tendril of smoke, Violet twists her wrist casually - a curve of shadows justting out from beside them, and solidifying as it scoops up the remains of the glass jar and liquid within, moving them out of sight. "He left me in charge because he has no other choice. He's always been a suspicious man. Only those with the Locke family name get the honour of looking after this dump." She smirks, shifting to look through the rest of the jars. "And, besides, no one else could understand his... organisation system. If you can call it that."
Violet chuckles, before finally gasping as she finds the potion she's looking for. Turning back to Caia as she holds up a dusty looking jar, filled with a ruby coloured liquid. "Just what you're needing. Brewed using two feathers of a golden pheasant. And, don't worry about the colour - it turns clear when mixed with any beverage of choice. If you're wishing to be discrete, of course." She winks.
