[Wren listens intently, her hand gravitating to her mouth as Izunia reaches the conclusion of his tale. She thinks of her own brother, imagines him with diseased skin and glowing red eyes—]
Gods...
[She doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry"? The words feel hollow, worthless.]
no subject
Gods...
[She doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry"? The words feel hollow, worthless.]