"I only remember a few key things," she admitted slowly as she slid to the edge of her seat in order to sit closer to him. Under the small table her knee gently jostled against his and she softly uttered an apology before allowing her knee to simply rest against his.
Her long, pale hands were carefully exploring the offered palm. It was the left hand she worked on first for this was what would show what he was born with. "The right hand, for males, is what you've accumulated in life. The left is what you are born with. It's the opposite for us females."
Lyra's fingertips began to dance over the middle of his palm. She was tracing his different lines when she spotted bit of paint on the right side of the palm. Lyra glanced up and flashed a brief smile.
"Well. It's fairly obvious, even if you didn't tell me, that you're made to work with children and you most certainly do... this scar, what is this from?" she ran her index finger over the scar for a moment then went about sizing up his palm against hers. Her hands were much smaller.