[Miriam caught the glance and the mouthed words; she stopped fidgeting with the crystal and shook her head. She'd be okay. This was just...a lot for her to unpack, and it was her mind. It must sound worse to others.

The painter gave her space to breathe, though; after she painted in Zack's half of the canvas, she returned to Miriam's once more.

The painted rose had started close-knit, but it didn't stay that way as Miriam told her story. The next petals began to swirl and spiral outwards, letting go of their roots and opening up as she did. Some were hard and sharp-edged, like pieces of glass. Others were softer, like proper flower petals. The silhouettes of people went on those; still abstract shapes, nothing in detail.]

"Thank you both. This next part will require some concentration, and I'm afraid I won't be much for conversation. There is a sitting room you may use instead."

[Miriam nodded, and stood; the assistant opened a side door and waved them inside. It was comfortably appointed, too--but its main decoration was the great number of paintings adorning the walls. Some were portraits, some of places, some...were too abstract for her to really make sense of. All full of stars and oddly chosen colors, and the like.]

...I haven't really talked about that sort of thing, before. To...others, who didn't know already, anyway. [There was always the next mission ahead, the next task to do. Never enough time to rest and think.] I hope it didn't trouble you.

[Her expression didn't appear particularly distressed, or upset; mostly just...thoughtful.]