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Indoors on a floor strewn with toppled blocks, soft indoor light. Lila stands amid the wreckage, fists clenched and scowling, while luka kneels nearby, calm eyes and hand extended to comfort.
Lila's block tower crashed. "My storm is roaring!" she yelled, fists tight. She stomped. Luka knelt nearby. "I see big feelings," he said softly. "Want help sailing through the storm?"
Under gentle indoor light, luka demonstrates a slow breath, hand on chest, while Lila mimics him, cheeks round and belly puffed like a sail, both facing each other on the block-littered floor.
"Let's breathe like whales," Luka said. "In through nose, slow, then whoooo out." Lila tried. Her belly puffed like a sail. "Again?" he asked. "Again," she nodded, shoulders loosening.
Soft lamp light warms the room as Lila squeezes a bright squishy pillow with both hands, brows knit yet focused; nearby, luka sits cross-legged counting on fingers, offering a steady, reassuring smile.
"Name it," Luka said. "Anger," Lila whispered. "Hot, like lightning." Luka handed a squishy pillow. "Squeeze the thunder, not people." She squeezed, breathed, and tapped counting fingers: one, two, three, four.
Late-afternoon indoor glow illuminates a half-built block tower; Lila kneels, frozen mid-placement of a wobbling block and counting on fingers, while luka watches beside her with an encouraging smile, spare blocks neatly stacked nearby.
The storm quieted. "I feel steadier," Lila said. Together they rebuilt, slower, breathing. A block wobbled; she paused, counted, and adjusted. "You steered your storm," Luka smiled. "I did," Lila grinned.