Unhappy it is, that blood-drenched spirit that Lakshmi keeps flickering her gaze too. Half-torn in wanting and torment, as she looks on it then back to Magni when she speaks. Her mouth opening, closing. Swallowing down harshly, because what can there be done?
Nothing. Nothing she could think of.
So Lakshmi takes a long breath. Trying to settle the prickling hunch of her shoulders loose back. Rolling it smooth behind her. Fingers gripping the edge of her blue-green saree briefly at her chest in an unsure little prickle of her fingers that was so characteristically her.
"Let us... just eat."
Because what else was there to do? So she nods to the table, and with that still tremoring hand, she reaches for the chair, to drag it out to sit. Smoothing her skirts below her, tucking herself neat. Without error, the spirit follows, it comes, face empty and grief-filled all at once, it comes to stand between them at one side of the table. An oppressive shape that looms over the meal without hint over moving.
no subject
Nothing. Nothing she could think of.
So Lakshmi takes a long breath. Trying to settle the prickling hunch of her shoulders loose back. Rolling it smooth behind her. Fingers gripping the edge of her blue-green saree briefly at her chest in an unsure little prickle of her fingers that was so characteristically her.
"Let us... just eat."
Because what else was there to do? So she nods to the table, and with that still tremoring hand, she reaches for the chair, to drag it out to sit. Smoothing her skirts below her, tucking herself neat. Without error, the spirit follows, it comes, face empty and grief-filled all at once, it comes to stand between them at one side of the table. An oppressive shape that looms over the meal without hint over moving.