The childrens' eyes dart around, just as much if not more so than when Tempest first met the two and managed to coax them back to the temple. The smaller, impossibly paler one leads the other and eyes this all suspiciously, disapproving in the way a scared kid will pretend to be around new things. She's seen many of their type walk through these doors, but she has a nagging, sad feeling that these two hold a melancholy far deeper than any recent additions to the monastery. She can just tell by the way they cling to each other, the tension in their shoulders, the bandages around Iago's shaky little hands and the hunch Puck has adopted, like he doesn't think he should take up too much space.
It hurts her heart to see little ones so clearly in need of a place like this.
But ! There would be time later to unpack all that. For now, she has two important promises to fulfill while she leads her little tour group, keeping an eye on them over her shoulder. The other one, who reluctantly and very quietly admitted to being called 'Iago,' falters in their step for a moment, looks like they don't know what to do with their now free hand when the other pup approaches Tempest. They shuffle closer to their bother, settling on picking at a thread on their already tattered cloak, double-checking shadows and corners as they trail along close by.
While Iago seems skittish and high-strung, Puck seems like the more timid one despite his curiosity. Too-gentle. Nervous. Like he's in a too-fancy shop and scared to break anything important. Tempest keeps an easy smile on her face and takes a turn in the winding temple, leading them down another hall where some of the kiddos have scribbled across the wall, an intentional detour in the hopes that the welcome mess counterbalances those nerves somewhat.
"Is chicken and dumplings a stew? Its stew-ish," Tempest answers, shrugging. "Whatever it is, it's the most delicious you'll ever have, I'm sure. We eat well here and have plenty to go around, so you can have as much as you want, mkay?"
A few turns later, and she's found the large, overstuffed closet she was looking for. "But first-" she sings, throwing it open. It is a miracle the mountain of oversized quilts and knitted behemoths don't spill out and suffocate all three of them. "Fluffy blankets! Your sibling is still shivering! Thankfully, we have options, each one warmer than the last. Dear Iago, do you have a favorite color?"
"Alrighty~ this one should do," Tempest doesn't skip a beat, tugging out a blanket that looks as though it could swallow the little one whole. She looks to Puck, who watches her with bright, striking eyes the same color as the paint decorating her face. She wonders if either of them would like to learn the practice... Assuming they decide to stay, that is. They look the type to bolt.
"And you, pup? Favorite color? Any pretty patterns you see that call out to you? How fluffy are you thinkin', hmm?"