Denice is in speech therapy. Today is pretty much like any other day. She repeats random syllables back to the therapist, as usual.
Still sitting in the dining room - or, no, there she goes. She hesitates, again, approaching the door, and peers out carefully into the hallway before heading back to the living room, where she curls up on the couch in the same spot she was in originally.
Unless someone's come along and turned the television off, that's still going; if it is, she'll watch it. If not, she just stares off into space again.
She's less startled about the TV turning on by itself than the bathroom door opening, but at little more discomfited.
She still doesn't respond immediately when addressed, but she does respond, giving Heria her attention.
"I thought I could try to tell you a bit better what's going on. Is that something you think you could listen to right now?"
Then she will try to do that.
They're not, at the moment, completely sure how she got here from the 'Asylum'; they're trying to figure this out. The Asylum, they think, was a very horrible place, which did completely not ok things like not give her enough food and try to control her for their convenience and to be someone like how they wanted instead of like how she wanted. She doesn't have to believe Heria when Heria says this, but they think those are horrible things to do.
They want her to be as ok as they can help her be while she's here, while they try to figure out how she got here. Whatever they figure out, they won't sent her back to the Asylum or to anyone else who would hurt her, and if someone like that tries to come take her they will do their best to stop them. They still don't know a lot of what she needs, which they're sorry about. Hopefully they can work on it.
She seems bewildered at this, more than anything, but nods, tentatively, when Heria is done.
That is better than could really be expected.
'OK. So, do you think you're doing ok right now, or is there maybe anything I could do to help make this more ok for you? Shake your head if you think you're ok enough or don't want me trying things right now."
"Ok. I said before I have some friends who don't talk outloud who do some other things. I'm wondering if you might like to try anything like that? It's very alright if you don't, or if you try and then don't want to use it. And you don't have to try it right now if you do, I can just leave you some things. Shake your head if you just don't want to deal with that right now at all?"
"That's probably already a lot to take in. I can give you some space some more. Nod if you want me to stay for any kind of reason?"
She won't look more-happy-in-reaction externally; that could convey that Denice has to do this to make her happy. But, unless Denice thinks this right now, this could be a - good thing, that she's trying this.
Heria sits down on the couch, arranging herself so she neither touches Denice, nor looks like she's trying to avoid her. (If the blanket is in the way, she'll move it to the back of the couch.)
She sits there, not looking at Heria, carefully controlling her breathing. After a minute she whines, under her breath, a barely-audible sound of distress, shudders, and scoots over to make contact - she's trembling, snuggled up as close to her as she can be.
Hug. Very hug. (Careful attention - if Denice makes to pull away she will let her go immediately. But meanwhile - hug, and the physical contact, and what comfort she can convey through it.)
She relaxes, and the trembling intensifies as she does. She tries to snuggle closer: it doesn't really work, but she ends up a little more flopped onto Heria than just snuggled up to her.