She knows she shouldn't think this. Goddess, she doesn't even know Willow. Not really and not yet, at least. But she can feel the power radiating off of her, a genuine bit of magic (unlike the others). Willow's only been to a couple of the Wicca group meetings so far, but Tara hasn't needed more time than that to figure this out. She hides her eyes so that Willow doesn't think she's staring, but the colors of the redhead's aura flutter far beyond normal boundaries. Tara has carefully calculated where she'd sit at these last two meetings so that she'd be far enough away to not risk reaching out and touching this new girl. Because she wants to. She really, really wants to. Not since her mother has Tara felt such a kindred soul. It makes her ache inside at the pain still there from that loss, but more than that, it makes her feel what she can only describe as a warm smile spread across her organs. During today's meeting, she giggles at the thought of a kawaii version of her heart beating in her chest. That means something, right? To feel that kind of happiness around a person? Tara knows Willow is special; there are physical signs of it that maybe the others wouldn't notice but she couldn't ignore even if she closed her eyes. And now her mention of spells… it's almost too impossible to be true. She knows she shouldn't think this, but she wants to clasp her hand. Thread her fingers through Willow's for a moment to see if what is bubbling inside isn't just her wishful imagination. Words always seem to fail her, as they did just now. But perhaps she'll be able to channel her mother's bravery to gather up enough courage to seek out Willow in the library later. Perhaps they could practice together. Perhaps it could be a new beginning, with someone who might accept who and what she is. Tara drops her eyes down to the floor while she thinks of this, missing the rest of the discussion. Her half-smile is for Willow, and perhaps one day she'll know it.