Willow watched the exchange with a knowing, almost maternal smile as the witches' relief washed over them in a palpable wave.
She saw the way Jax's gaze softened when he saw what the Witches had been working on for him, and the way his posture relaxed from that of a king assessing a tribute to a man accepting a heartfelt gift. Her work here was done. The initial welcome, the grand reveal, was her domain.
What came next was theirs. She knew what would happen, and was eager to hear all the stories from her Witches when this was over.
"Alright, you hooligans," she called out, her voice light but carrying an undeniable note of finality, "He's all yours. Try not to break him. Or the new furniture. The latter is more expensive."
She gave Jax a final, lingering look, a silent promise of 'later', before turning and walking back towards the path, her robes whispering against the glowing moss.
