It's only a few moments longer before the quill is set down, and the writing that's covering the spoon glows silver-ish, before fading out of sight. The only bit of metallic color that's left is a tiny stripe of gold around the end of the handle.

Trixie smiles, sets the spoon down and starts using a second quill to start writing a flurry of notes in her floating journal. This was a good project for her, it helped her in understanding the magic flows in this place. It would make getting her cart sorted much less of a hassle.

She'd still not noticed C'taqa's return as she looked over her book and absentmindedly chewed on an apple. If he wanted her attention, he'd have to speak up... Trixie didn't get lost in thoughts often, but when she did, she could spend hours at it.

((They aren't and they are. The filling is dead easy. Make thick mashed potatoes, add cheese, onion, bacon or whatever to them. Bam, filling. It's the dough that can be tough to make. I'd share my recipe, but I don't measure anymore. I've made it far too often to need to.))