Tabitha smoked cigarettes purely to piss off the mortals. Each inhale mocked them - what did she care? She danced outside the realm of death. And man, sometimes that really made the humans mad. What are you doing, screamed the dark looks that they sent her, and how can you get away with that?
Circe caught her smirking and clucked her tongue patronizingly. "It makes you smell like shit," she pointed out, "Even you can't escape that."
"So what?" Tabitha squatted and pushed the red tip of her cigarette into the cement. "I'll take a shower when we get home."
The witch rolled her eyes, a motion that missed completely by her companion. A cat sitting on the wall noticed however and mimicked the action. Circe smiled at that and reached over to pet the creature gently on the head. "Makes your clothes smell, too." She added as an afterthought.
Tabitha grumbled and stood back up. "So I'll wash them, too. Damn, woman, is logic lost on you completely? Lord what fools these mortals be." Stretching, Tabitha sighed contently as her back popped. Feeling better, she apologized for her rudeness by raising the tone of her voice and offering a bit more on the neutral topic of Shakespeare. "One of my greatest achievements was Hamlet."
Circe was too busy to acknowledge the boast. She closed her eyes and placed the palm of her hand on the cat's forehead for a good couple of second before giving a smile and sigh of relief. "He has a good home," she told Tabitha, "And I've put a spell on him to protect him from cars."
"Good." Taibtha waved at the cat who nodded his head in return. "His owners should put a collar on him, though." Satisified that the matter had been closed, Tabitha steered the conversation back to herself. "As I was saying, Hamlet-"
"Best thing ever, yadda yadda, I know." Circe interupted. "We've heard it all before."
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