Habits were hard to break, but over the years, Krishna had become quite adept at taking his hand back before the cane got him. He scoffed a little, unconvinced as ever that Morrigan was ever actually fine. She and Calvin shared similar traits in that they were both people who took care of others but never spared a moment for themselves. She could certainly take care of herself insofar as surviving was concerned, but it stopped there. "You just want me to stop asking." That, too, was familiar, like the steps of a well-loved dance.
Krishna wasted no time in looking for a good spot for the moon-viewing for them. He passed by the knot of people on the open field, and climbed up the gentle incline of the northern corner of the town green, where several townspeople had already found their seats, greeting them quietly before going back to their conversations.
"What were you doing in Castyll?" He said, once they were settled down. Morrigan hardly seemed like the sort to take impromptu holidays, and all her family was in Glynn. The murmur of the crowd was present, but not so close they would have trouble talking to each other. In a way, it represented just how Krishna interacted with the people around him: he preferred to keep a small distance, close enough to be connected, but not so much that he was shackled with the complications that arose when more than one person came together.