More than the words, it's the dead tone that makes Winter mentally check her anger, drawing her fist back and letting her hands drop to her side. There's no will left to fight, and she doesn't particularly like kicking people when they're down.

When she speaks next, after a moment, her voice is neutral, if quiet. She's speaking to the wall, but in the quiet room, it carries well enough. "I wouldn't have come if I didn't still value your ability to help us. If I weren't going to trust you with decisions. All I'd be doing then is hurting you for no reason." Taking a deep breath, she turns around, some of the hurt faded from her eyes. "There aren't enough of us to handle things as it is. If you want out, that's your right, and I won't take it from you. But-"

She hesitates. Should she really ask? On the one hand, she associates her second home with Lazarus more than anyone else. But he's more or less taking responsibility for the attack, and that means there are some big questions to tackle, sooner or later. "-if that isn't what you want, I need to know that you're going to..." Her hands move absently in meaningless gestures as she fishes for the words. "...make sound decisions, next time. If there is a next time."