Emotions are weird and kind of dumb sometimes. Stacia knows that Bunny likes her, adores her even, and trusts her enough to let her poke around in his head a little with a magic key. But for some reason, this -- Bunny gently escorting her to a pot of earth and growing sleepy-time tea for her without so much as a question about her nighttime struggles -- catches in her throat and makes the world go blurry at the edges. She dashes away the tears with the back of her wrist, more surprised by them than embarrassed, and smiles as she accepts the little packets he's prepared.

"I will," she says, a little damply. "It should be fine. Things usually affect me the same as they would any other human when I'm shaped like one. Otherwise I'd probably drink a lot more coffee than I do. But thank you."

There's a non-zero chance that "herbs magically grown by the Easter Bunny" count as "spirit awakened" anyway, even if she can't imagine going to sleep in Crinos.