Benji is seated at the table, her head rested against her hand and eyes almost shut as she-- thinks, and half-dozes. A sweater has been pulled over her sleep clothes, feet bare, trousers slightly too long, and her other hand grips a hold of the cup of tea she's working on and halfway through by the time Wolfgang has made it this way. At the sound of approach, she lifts her head, a brief flicker of open worry as well as some guilt in her expression, before managing to seal it up again.

"Good morning. Um." Both hands move, gesturing in a tada offer towards where a ceramic teapot rests on stone, containing a tea of rooibos and other fragrant additions.