Short hug, then.

You really are safe, here. I know it's hard to believe.

She nods briefly into Pradnakt's shoulder. She's starting to think it's true, logically, especially after seeing Pradnakt practise. But it's harder to convince herself of that.

She steps back suddenly. You probably want to get clean.

Yeah. Do you want a shower when I'm done with it?

It takes Rhoda a little while to respond to that. It feels like a trick question, even if she's nearly entirely convinced that it's not. (The tiny, treacherous voice in the back of her mind won't let her be entirely convinced.) She manages a nod eventually.

Why wouldn't you be allowed that?

Shrug. Just sometimes...wasn't. And there'd never really been any consistent rule as to when that was the case.

Well, you are, here. You can ask any time and take as long as you want.

I- she doesn't quite believe that, but she pushes that aside. Thank you.

It's really no problem. C'mon, let's go get cleaned up.

And there's that nice warm, cared for feeling. She'll wait for Pradnakt to go ahead of her again, apparently more comfortable following.

Sure.

She heads right for the back room.

Rhoda follows as far as the door to the backroom, and stops there, settling down on the floor to the side of the door, leaning against the wall.

I don't mind you being in here, if you want.

Rhoda thinks about that, and then pushes herself up to step into the room. (She's strangely reluctant to be too far away from Pradnakt.)

She's not in the bedroom; the door to the room beyond it is open.

She bites at her lips, but approaches the door, and sticks her head through the door.

You can come in, I'm in the back. And a sense of the layout; she's in the alcove at the end of the wall on the left.

She's still somewhat hesitant as she moves forward, but she makes it to the alcove Pradnakt indicated.

And this would be where Pradnakt keeps her wardrobe. It's not huge - closer to one dozen outfits than to two - nor particularly diverse, though there are some deep red and dark grey items in the collection along with her ubiquitous black. Everything is embroidered, though, in a rainbow of colors - glittery blues, glistening reds, vibrant golds and silvers. The small dresser next to the hanging collection holds a small selection of jewelry, all gold with variously colored gems set into it, on stands. Pradnakt herself is rifling through the bottom drawer at the moment. I think I might have something that'll at least work as a nightgown for you, if I didn't get rid of it...

Well, it's more clothes than Rhoda's seen in one place before, and she stares at them for a moment before the jewellery catches her eye. She leans closer, tucking her hands behind her back, and holding one wrist with the other hand. She's only half paying attention to what Pradnakt's saying until the end when it actually processes and her head snaps round to look at Pradnakt. You- I'm fine with what I- I don't need a...nightgown. S'fine. (She apparently still has issues with people giving her things she doesn't think are essential.)

She stops rifling and looks up at her. What are you worried about?

She isn't even entirely sure. There's just some deep seated dread about the idea of anyone giving anything to her. Occasionally some of the crew would taunt her with things, offer them to her, and then pull them back before she could take them, drawing her close enough to hit and hurt - she stopped trusting that after too long. (Deeper, there's an old memory there that she can't really recall, about someone giving her things when she was much younger, not much, but toys, clothes, food, and what Ma'am did to that person when she found out they were helping Rhoda.) She sort of shrugs. I- Bad things sometimes happened when people gave me things? she says after a moment, managing to piece that much together.

She sighs; something about it suggests that she's suppressing a growl. Okay. That's not going to happen, here.

Which doesn't completely silence Rhoda's doubts, but she nods, once, because she's just seen what Pradnakt is capable of. No-one's hurting Pradnakt (not like that at least).

Yeah.

We should talk about that. Shower first, though. And finish up the cookies, if you'd rather.