"I meant the herb actually; I'm baking a chicken and need thyme for the seasoning mix. I'll give you a portion of the meal in exchange?"

Her expression seems almost disappointed. "Ah. Well, that's shockingly mundane. Still, I should have some thyme in the kitchen, just a moment."

The door closes. Some time passes and I hear a "Whirrwhirwhir" noise from deep inside her house as blue light leaks from the windows. Still, a minute later she comes back with a small jar full of ground up thyme, ready to use.

"Thank you, miss?"

"Terry, I'm Miss Terry. I'm looking forward to that baked chicken. It was wonderful."

Somewhat confused by my weird but friendly neighbor, I go home and get to cooking.