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[minaharker10_2]

(Continuing from here)

*Mina, as she often does, is sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Her hands are shaking, though, and she hasn't yet taken a sip of the tea. There's a shawl wrapped around her shoulders but, if one looks, they can see the bite marks on her neck.

She's wearing a crucifix, of course. She's not an idiot.*

Comments

[quiet_dignity]

"Mina--!" Here's a very concerned husband, sitting down next to her and taking her hand gently. "Mina, my dear, are you--?" He takes a careful look at her and notes the marks on her neck -- he's sporting some of his own, actually, and stills. "You too?"

[minaharker10_2]

*She sees the marks upon his own neck immediately - she looks for them, of course, some odd instinct, and, wordlessly, she embraces him.*

[quiet_dignity]

He hugs her tightly and strokes her hair a bit -- his own hands might be shaking too. He only just got away because Quincey showed up, thank goodness. "It's going to be alright. We'll do something," he says after a moment, quietly, but firmly.

[minaharker10_2]

*She nods, a little. Yes, they did something before, they managed. They can managed again.* You have a crucifix with you?

[quiet_dignity]

"I do," still quietly, still stroking her hair. "It's in my pocket."

[minaharker10_2]

*soft* Good. That's good. *she settles her head against his chest, taking comfort in the familiar scent of him. A pause* I'd met him before, you know, Jonathan. I'd thought he'd seemed like a nice man.