"Hey…"
Gianna didn't bother wiping the tears flowing seamlessly down her eyes as she heard Athena's voice. She was leaning over the porch, her elbows supporting her weight against the banister.
She looked out over the compound from Spider's vantage, but she wasn't seeing anything. The only thing she was seeing was pain—deadly, suffocating pain that made her struggle to breathe evenly, each inhale catching roughly in her chest.
She didn't move even when Athena placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, or when she scented that Chelsea and Areso had joined them behind her.
"I'm… sorry," Athena murmured, her voice soft, uncertain, not exactly sure what to say. How do you comfort someone who had borne loss this way? Sorry seemed minimal, painfully inadequate. Whoever invented words should invent something better, something that could at least fit for this scenario.
Gianna, meanwhile, kept mute, still staring ahead with glassy eyes.
