That's what Ruka tells herself in a mantra in her head, sitting motionless with the bowl resting on her knees as she watches everyone. Her expression isn't particularly harried--she's not upset or defensive. Just...watchful. Taking everything in.
When Xichen takes a seat next to her, she glances at him with open curiosity--everything from his hair (much, much longer than her own) to his robes are interesting and not at all familiar, even less so than things normally are for her. It reminds her vaguely, very vaguely, of a priest's robes.
Wordlessly she offers her bowl out to him as well, untouched from her.
1
That's what Ruka tells herself in a mantra in her head, sitting motionless with the bowl resting on her knees as she watches everyone. Her expression isn't particularly harried--she's not upset or defensive. Just...watchful. Taking everything in.
When Xichen takes a seat next to her, she glances at him with open curiosity--everything from his hair (much, much longer than her own) to his robes are interesting and not at all familiar, even less so than things normally are for her. It reminds her vaguely, very vaguely, of a priest's robes.
Wordlessly she offers her bowl out to him as well, untouched from her.