So the diagram actually isn't on the floor. It's on a table. The table is in a room with high enough ceilings that you can stand on top of the table if you so choose, but why would anyone do that? Chanai, who is alternately sketching the vaguely circular array he wants to use for a spell and using the space around the edges of the same paper for notetaking, is sure not expecting anyone to stand on the table. In fact, none of the people in this room are expecting anyone to do that.
"Thank you. Sorry, Cam. And these are Chanai and Tyela. Everyone, this is my great great great grandmother Ana."
"They did experiment once with a human-shaped mermaid and that was a mermaid for magic purposes. Can someone get me materials for a sleep spell?"
Chanai can tell Cam what materials those are and explain that it seems like people can't do magic in wrong-species bodies.
"You should be completely human but you may not be magically so..." Plants.
And she does some magic and asks Tema for permission to put her to sleep and Tema lies down and sleeps very briefly.
"It's a human body."
Ana starts going through the collection of souls, sorting them by whether she knows who they are and whether they'll be straightforward to resurrect quickly.
"This one - " glass jar, a little acid-etched " - won't be useful but our contract definitely requires me to get her a body if they're going spare. She used to be Miomirish; I don't know if she cares. She didn't have any reason to expect she could be picky."
"I have a lot of Miomirish ancestors - a lot of people in Zorvey do. Chanai doesn't and the body you just made doesn't look like it does."
"Well, yeah, I've seen... the people in this room, on this planet so far, I'm making things up based on ethnicities I'm familiar with. I guess if she's not picky I'll guess and we can always re-do this later." This lady will look kinda Italian.
She looks around for her old body and doesn't see it and does see a strange winged alien. None of this is what she expected.
"Oh." She was not really expecting anyone to bother after this long. Probably none of her friends are still around. Probably her parents are dead and her youngest cousins don't remember her. She curls up and puts her chin on her knees.
...There should be a mirror in this room. Now there is. It's big but it's on wheels and will fit through the door.
Danka looks in the mirror and doesn't have much of a reaction and goes and sits in the corner out of the way.
"Now. This is my son, who might come back alarmed and disoriented - he was killed in action. Just make sure he has plenty of space." The room is still big enough that that's feasible with everyone in it.
If nobody's going to make any cosmetic requests this young man is going to look like a young Jensen Ackles, because sue him, the man's pleasant to look at.