[ their faces have been cleaned, but their clothes are still grass stained from lounging in the garden while alois explained things as best he could. and, they're next to the table of refreshments. alois, all stockings, ribbons, and lace. little luca, disheveled, with clothes that fit a bit too loosely, a trouser strap that refuses to stay on one shoulder. he still needs a proper bath, but his bitty hands are spotless. (save for probably underneath fingernails.)
alois has been carrying little brother everywhere, of course, and into the shelter was no different. he sets him down for a moment, next to the table. ] Don't move. [ he turns, but then knits his brows and turns back, as sternly as possible: ] I mean it, don't you take even a step from this spot, Luca.
[ then, he rushes off for a chair, hardly paying mind to anyone else at all. he returns, chair in tow, and sets it in place nearby. hoists luca up under the pits of his arms, and gently sets him down. there should be enough room for him to wriggle back with the ball around his ankle, rest it in the seat with him so it won't be as weighted. alois is half-kneeling, half-squatting before the chair, brushing thumbs over reddish eyebrows and baby cheeks. ] What do you want to eat? I'll fix you a whole plate full. Do you want sugared bread? Honey and biscuits? Some steak? Potatoes?
(ooc: alois & luca both will be replying here. feel free to bother them!!)