Winter is very much ready to explode at Helen in a way she really shouldn't, but Molly's outburst cuts her off decisively. Her head snaps around, and where she was drawing close to a perceived threat a moment ago, now she's backing off, fighting the urge to take a step or two back. Or to just walk in and hug Molly; that won't go over well. Not the way things are going. She feels like she pushed Molly to have to do this, in a roundabout sort of way, and that responsibility is heavy on her shoulders. Enough that, even as the damning testimony is laid in front of her, her rage doesn't ignite like before. It just smolders, until Helen relents, her comment softer than Winter was expecting.
So when she responds, her own tone is somewhat cold, a little curt, but not as sharp as it was before. She feels herself starting to stutter as her stress rises, and she pauses and forces herself to calm down a little bit. "I'm... not going to answer that for you. I don't mind being called a monster. It wouldn't be the first time. But Molly, your ward, depends on you. She's looking to you for support, for guidance. And you're poisoning her, like this. Let her reach her own conclusions. Encourage her to make a decision both of you can be comfortable with. But don't make it for her." Anxious, worried, Winter's hand comes across to grip her own arm, and she looks down. "We never got the chance to decide how we wanted to live our lives, when all this started. Don't waste yours, or hers."
She's quiet for a second. There are some... choice notes in that explosion, but she latched onto a couple particular points, and when she lets her gaze fall on Helen again, there's hurt in her eyes, open and raw. "I don't pretend to imagine what it felt like, to lose someone in the invasion. To lose something that makes you who you are. But don't ever assume I don't feel the weight of the people I couldn't save. Just because my dress hides my scars, doesn't mean I don't remember how I got each and every one. I'm sorry for your loss, for your injuries. I can't fix them. I have nothing to give you in compensation. But I keep living my life, because I don't want to see it happen again if there's anything I can do to stop it. I don't want anyone else to have to pick up my torch. That's going to have to be enough." She lets herself fall silent again, and stays that way for a bit.
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So when she responds, her own tone is somewhat cold, a little curt, but not as sharp as it was before. She feels herself starting to stutter as her stress rises, and she pauses and forces herself to calm down a little bit. "I'm... not going to answer that for you. I don't mind being called a monster. It wouldn't be the first time. But Molly, your ward, depends on you. She's looking to you for support, for guidance. And you're poisoning her, like this. Let her reach her own conclusions. Encourage her to make a decision both of you can be comfortable with. But don't make it for her." Anxious, worried, Winter's hand comes across to grip her own arm, and she looks down. "We never got the chance to decide how we wanted to live our lives, when all this started. Don't waste yours, or hers."
She's quiet for a second. There are some... choice notes in that explosion, but she latched onto a couple particular points, and when she lets her gaze fall on Helen again, there's hurt in her eyes, open and raw. "I don't pretend to imagine what it felt like, to lose someone in the invasion. To lose something that makes you who you are. But don't ever assume I don't feel the weight of the people I couldn't save. Just because my dress hides my scars, doesn't mean I don't remember how I got each and every one. I'm sorry for your loss, for your injuries. I can't fix them. I have nothing to give you in compensation. But I keep living my life, because I don't want to see it happen again if there's anything I can do to stop it. I don't want anyone else to have to pick up my torch. That's going to have to be enough." She lets herself fall silent again, and stays that way for a bit.