Sometimes the usual tricks fail and so she moves from Korrin's side, dragging a chair until she's directly in the woman's line of sight, the scrape of wood on wood loud in her ears but it's noise. It might help, it might help Korrin's eyes to focus on her for a moment when she doesn't actually need to turn to look at her as she keeps her left hand out of the way.

There might be a day when she isn't so suspicious of it but no good comes of playing with fire and so she reaches out with her right hand to take Korrin's face instead, to tilt it up enough, elbow resting on the table, thumb under her chin. Nowhere else to go, only her, only Araceli. (This is not the time to speak of Leandra when she is so tired she is near to tears, of Rajani, Brunilda, Argyris, Eir, Nerissa when they are still so homesick they cannot bear to look at an unfamiliar country, when Araceli's face has had to be the friendly port in a storm, yet is this not such a moment? Or is this when the drowning soul clings for a lifeline, when they are too frightened to know if they are ready for the sea to take them?)

"What do they say? The spirits that you're hearing? I don't see or hear anything at all, and I know my hand feels much as it always does, I know enough to know that should there be something odd about the Veil then perhaps it should begin to pain me or to ache in some fashion."