Alexa doesn't quite know where to stand.

Which is maddening, by the by. Decades of training, centuries of practice in standing still, and in one fell swoop, she's back to being awkward. The spear in her hand feels like a toy--no, worse, like a child using her mother's weapon in a game of pretend. Standing behind Redana now, in her condition, would be as insulting as it would be silly. But it's also what those decades of training insist is correct--that she should be in the background, behind and slightly to the left, in case of any attacks.

As if any of the other groups would accept an interloper claiming that position of unearned prestige. As if she could do anything if it happened. It's not nearly so restful or peaceful as it was in the party with the Coherents.

Still, once she sees Mynx on that dais in that form, she has to move forward. Quietly, meekly, so as not to disrupt the others or tread on toes. Without demanding. She's here, Mynx. You can see that face, see that concern there. But you obviously have a speech to respond to, right? She's here. She'll wait.