Kite Morian, Sunnydale High Class of '03

The door is supposed to take her to Natalie's spare room; Kite stumbles at the threshold, but keeps going. The t-shirt and sweats she wears almost fit her. Another shirt and a pair of jeans are bundled in her arms. (These are splattered with...something. Cran-apple juice, maybe?)

She heads straight for the bar, where she drops the second set of clothes off. "Bar, can you...take care of these? I don't need them back."

The clothes vanish, to be replaced by a mug of hot tea. "Thanks," she murmurs.

Her throat is still a wreck, probably will be for the next few days. She can learn to like tea for that long.