The young heiress returned to find her disciples sitting at opposite ends of the medical station's supply table. While a large chunk of her consciousness was aimed at Qatrand and her surroundings, she noted that both of their spirits radiated a peculiar (for them) mix of things - 'embarrassment', 'obstinance', and 'hurt'.
'Almost enough to make me want to poke at the obvious lover's quarrel that occurred.'
While securing her last wooden kebab skewer in her fingers, Elua's gaze swept 'obviously' between them before she took a bite. Nohre's shoulders were stiff as she unnecessarily reorganized the supply of bandages on a small table. Fusand's attention remained fixed on writing and sketching something in a small notepad he carried for taking market notes.
Neither had noticed her arrival, too busy facing away and pretending the other didn't exist.
