Eidre, as Maia comes to find out, is not a particularly well liked Ironmaw resident. Begrudgingly permitted around for utility that is rapidly fading due to age and vices, the gossip around the table at dinner after Tihrak recounts the entire interaction [with some gleeful embellishments on Kenichi's part, given that he's the first one to have heard the story as soon as they got back, that Tihrak neglects to correct with a fond smile] largely focuses on two things. One, how quickly she'll manage to pick up swordplay, and two... Two, how many bones she'll break when the uragh tries to eat her. The conversation is lighthearted, but a spike of anxiety lances through her chest as she chews on a chunk of meat. Condition wise, she's never been better-- Sonderrime cuisine is fantastic, and by the day she finds herself shocked at how much stronger she is just eating heartier meals and building muscle through daily tasks. But that doesn't change those basic, fundamental facts about her
The walk is rather short, all things considered, but it feels like a lifetime at the moment. The paths, cleared of frost and soft underfoot, require a bit more caution to traverse than she had expected, which makes her curse– Which makes those passing by stop to stare for a few moments, before confusion bleeds into understanding, and then into disinterest squint. When she eventually finds herself holding onto Tihrak’s paw for support, a walking stick taken in for repairs after it had been damaged in the uragh fight, the disinterest sometimes shifts to outright contempt, or discomfort. It’s fine, though– It isn’t as if this is the first time she’s had to field the court of public opinion. And despite everything… She hasn’t forgotten the impression a lady of standing can make simply by remaining unprovoked by the reactions of those uninvolved in her immediate affairs. Head held high and expression a careful and practiced mask, the only sign of any distress that she permits herself is the
Tihrak's circle is small. Just him and his siblings, doing their best to keep their heads down and their tails out of trouble. Their home is decorated in clutter, kit crafts and materials ripe for the utilization filling every shelf and counter. Their metals of choice seem to be gold and bronze, and blown glass serves many a function across the space. At the moment, she perches atop a stool padded with several layers of thick cushions, leaving her precariously balanced, tail wound around the solid back to ensure that if she falls, at least she has a chance to get her legs underneath her before she eats the hardwood underneath her. Tihrak has taken the remaining cuts of meat into the subterranean cold storage underneath their home, Inkeri is off handling business across the territory, and the younger members of the circle are scattered around the settlement, keeping busy with various attempts to offset the threat that the uraghs seem to be presenting to just about everyone who lives