Enchanted brewery

Snacks

Jeremiel sighed as he peeked through the window. "Do you think the people are gonna go today? Raining like crazy."

"Eh. Once Chaac is done with his tantrums, they'll come in," Marja sighed. She hung upside down from her broom, reading the latest issue of the paper. "Mayan town is leading a revolution to get all their myths returned. Something about a missing jaguar goddess."

"Are you sure that's not Storm Runner though?" The angel asked.

"Beats me. Now sit down, you look stalkery gazing out the window!" She used her wand and plopped him in his plush, fuzzy soft chair.

Jeremiel picked up a wind potion. "Hey, we never talked about our families. What's yours like?"

"Mama, Nana, and Baba are all witches. Baba is my great grandma. Fourth generation witch, first to have inefficient spell casting. My little brother is a braggermouth. My dad is a normie." She lowered the paper. "What about you?"

"I was studying theology in college when my mom gave me my wing jacket. My dad's a pastor. Only child," he replied, nestled in his chair.

Marja hums. "Explains why you nearly went to kill me then," she said with a cheeky grin.

Jeremiel zipped up his wings and took off the jacket. "Witches are crazy, okay?"

"I know!" She said with a wave. "I ain't like them though."

Jeremiel scoffed, but frowned as he heard his stomach. "Can't check the traps today... do we still have those snacks?"

"Mm hm!" Marja flipped off the broom and got out the various snacks that travelers would trade for helpful potions. "Still can't believe we didn't eat them all yet."

Jeremiel nods. "I often resist. Most are processed anyway and..." He fell silent.

Marja walked by and sat in her cushioned rocking chair. "It's not fair you keep resisting. Even you are human at the end of the day, you know."

Jeremiel growled. "I know! And yet... why am I so reluctant to try and eat them? I nearly passed out last winter because I chose starvation over some freaking peanut candy bars!"

Marja took one out and slid it to him. The angel jumped back a little. "And you still would rather starve than eat a caramelly peanut."

"I don't know why, okay?" He sighed. "What happened in my life before Pandora to make me act like this?" He mumbled.

"My guess? Controlling parents counting your calories and telling you sugar is the drug of you know who," Marja hums as she ate the Payday bar. "Which I find ridiculous. Sugar is in everything we eat, Jerry."

"Do not call me Jerry. I will accept Jeremiah or Jeremy, but not Jerry." He curled up in his seat. "Then again, that sounds like them. They wanted me perfect."

"Perfect is the sin of pride, believing you can do no wrong and compare yourself to the ultimate God," Marja pointed out.

Jeremiel stared at the candy. "Why does a witch need to be the one to tell me this and not a therapist?" He grumbled as he snatched a bar.

"Therapy is like $100 dollars per session. Money easily spent like that when we could buy more twine and metal for arts and crafts."

"...it's times like this I feel like you can be an annoying little imp."

The witch smirked. "Fourth generation witch. Think I have the right, alter boy."

"Cat girl."

"Feather fluff!"

"Hat kid!"

They both laugh.

Marja stared outside as she began knitting. "You think we can find those immortal worms?"

"Please let me have my cheat day in peace."