She still flinches back slightly - more because it's instinct than any real fear. She seems confused by Pradnakt doing it - she's the Captain here isn't she? She might not keep slaves, but why would she do this if someone's offering?

More signing, and the droid gets out the pencils and paper again and sketches out a triangle divided into layers, with one stick-figure person at the top and more on each lower layer than the one above it. "We don't do this," she says, when she's done drawing.

"Oh," she says quietly, still staring at the drawing. She looks up, trying to figure out what to do. She feels unbalanced, everything changing too fast.

So she retreats back to the corner, curling down in it, knees up to chest, head down and arms around her head. (She's not aware she's apologising aloud as well as in her head.) She hates not being sure where she stands in relation to others.

Pradnakt hands dish duty off to Daisy so she can meditate. Hey, she sends gently.

After a little while she will get, more focused, but utterly miserable: I'm sorry. Although there's no clear reasoning for why she's apologising (apart from a confused jumble of being a nuisance, an irritation, being unable to adapt, being so dumb).

Sigh. Not your fault, kiddo. I'm pushy sometimes; if I'd known it would upset you like this I'd've been more careful.

I...I don't know where I stand with you? It can't be wrong to ask right? You're being nice, and giving me more than I need, and...and not asking for anything in return? There's a not quite worded feeling of 'people just don't do that'.

I disagree that it's more than you need.

I- I- she can't argue with that, it's not an objective fact, it's an opinion, but... I still don't- What do you want?

Sigh. I'm still working that out. But I want you to be okay, physically and mentally, whatever else happens. And that means not being two missed meals from starving to death, and it means having some sense of your own value and some expectation that other people will see it too.

There seems to be a disconnect there, like she can't quite understand what Pradnakt's telling her. Because she is okay. Apart from the confusion, she feels better than she possibly ever has.

She says as much, but can't argue any of the other points. (Hard to argue when all you have to say is 'that's just how it is'.)

How it was. Not how it's going to be, if I have a say in it.

Oh. She uncurls slightly, arms wrapping around her legs, chin resting on her knee. She isn't sure she believes that, but equally, Pradnakt has no reason to put so much energy into trying to convince her of this if the woman doesn't think it's true. Okay.

Good.

Sunrise's started without us, but we can go watch the rest if you'd like. And yeah, those are every day, usually.

Please? she sounds almost excited about that, even though she doesn't really move. She remembers how pretty it was last night, and wants to see if this compares.

Go ahead. She drops the meditation and waits for her to get moving before standing to follow.

She's out the front door the minute permission is granted, and immediately scales the tree again for the vantage point, remembering Pradnakt's directions - down facing out from the house, up behind it.

Pradnakt follows and settles herself on her perch. There aren't any installations to catch the sunrise's colors, but it's only slightly less glorious for the lack.

She still watches in slightly breathless awe.

Everything here is much prettier than home. (It helps that her precog has barely triggered at all.) But there's so much more colour in the environment - the sky at least, at these two times of day.

And Daisy's flowers, and the hanging fabric in Pradnakt's workroom - even her apparently-habitual black outfits are accented with colored embroidery.

Not that any of that does anything to make this less magnificent.

It's all very pretty. And she's almost dreading the inevitable return to what has been her reality.

Still. It will be nice to have memories of this. And of eating something that is actually pleasant. If she had a less clear grasp of reality and dream, and more colourful, less painful dreams, she'd be wondering if this was real.

She sends quiet feelings of gratitude at Pradnakt.

Yes, good.

It's less straightforward to pick out when the show is over, this time, with the much more subtle fade into the blue of day. But eventually Pradnakt yawns and lies down and, apparently, meditates: Is there anything you want to do this morning? I don't have plans in particular.

She goes still at that question. Before there was always stuff to do, but she didn't exactly have options.

She doesn't even know what there is to do around here - except, potentially, look after the animals and garden, and Daisy had said something about other sculptures.

Not bothered, ma'am, she settles on after a moment.

That, tinkering, making art - reading poetry, once you know the language, and I have a few books and things, too. You'd probably be more interested in seeing how the speeder works, but I'd rather be a little more sure of what's going on before I teach you anything like that; sending you first would be a strange way to start an invasion, but I'm still not sure it isn't one.

Tinkering and making art get almost immediate interest - the former a sense of familiarity, the latter pure curiosity. The idea of reading seems relatively alien. She is definitely interested in the speeder, but understands the caution.

Could be a spy they knew you would be unlikely to suspect? she does know something about how covert ops would work. She does however flinch when she realises what she just suggested. (She isn't a spy, she'd just been offering a conclusion her own brain had defined as logical.)