Zavakri quietly packs the Bundle of Dry Wood away, then scoops up the monocle into her hand to inspect it closer. She peers through it and murmurs quietly to herself something about greyscale and a loss of warmth and tone, as well as some mumbo about being capable of adjusting for the depth variance of a single eye 'on the fly', so to speak. Truly she is a woman of many words and in this case she is mumbling almost all of them to herself. A few self-conversational spans later, and the monocle is strapped to her head and offset in a way that she can pull it down onto her eye in a moment's notice. Certainly not stylish- but somehow, so very Zavakri.
"Good, and all I need to do is avoid thinking about how ludicrously horrible de-"
She immediately clams up, tears welling up in her eyes. She bites onto her lip with some viciousness. Her entire body trembles as the tears burn hotly down her face and she begins to expel a not insubstantial volume of snot from her nose.
"I-I erm." She manages, rummaging into her pockets, her voice strained. "I-I need just a moment. Rory...R-Rory's, erm. She's got my vote, whatever we need to d-do."
She pulls out a handkerchief and steps aside, temporarily losing herself from the conversation at large as she blows her nose into the cloth with immense fervor.
"Good, and all I need to do is avoid thinking about how ludicrously horrible de-"
She immediately clams up, tears welling up in her eyes. She bites onto her lip with some viciousness. Her entire body trembles as the tears burn hotly down her face and she begins to expel a not insubstantial volume of snot from her nose.
"I-I erm." She manages, rummaging into her pockets, her voice strained. "I-I need just a moment. Rory...R-Rory's, erm. She's got my vote, whatever we need to d-do."
She pulls out a handkerchief and steps aside, temporarily losing herself from the conversation at large as she blows her nose into the cloth with immense fervor.