[ Lancelot blinks in surprise at the sight of her scars -- they match his own, he recognises what will have caused them right away. His hands lift a little, but float under her own. Unwilling to touch without permission. ]
Who did this to you?
[ She may not wish to speak of it, that he understands, but this -- this is truly terrible. If she has been kept as long as she says, in such a way? Then her anger is sure to have only grown over that time. To have twisted deeper. ]
action;
Who did this to you?
[ She may not wish to speak of it, that he understands, but this -- this is truly terrible. If she has been kept as long as she says, in such a way? Then her anger is sure to have only grown over that time. To have twisted deeper. ]