[Which is, more or less, similar to the most likely scenario she'd told herself excepting - maybe - one point that catches her attention like a snag in a jumper, the flash of light off the top of an enemy's helmet.]
She doesn't know.
[It's not a question. Not really. Her hand and the glass in it, liquor only half gone, hovers briefly near the shape of her mouth. But it's not really something she needs answered; she doesn't know Terra well outside of pt - but seeing the girl a few times a day to run her in circles is enough that Shepard knows she's kind. Gentle, even (which isn't a word she has any real fondness for, especially here).
There's an acerbic, frank piece of her that makes her want to say 'Exactly who do you think you're helping by shielding her?' - thinks out every syllable, even. Because what good was it to pretend things were different? To be willfully ignorant? But instead she strains a sip of low, bitter alcohol through her teeth and swallows both down. Taps her forefinger one, twice against the glass.]
no subject
She doesn't know.
[It's not a question. Not really. Her hand and the glass in it, liquor only half gone, hovers briefly near the shape of her mouth. But it's not really something she needs answered; she doesn't know Terra well outside of pt - but seeing the girl a few times a day to run her in circles is enough that Shepard knows she's kind. Gentle, even (which isn't a word she has any real fondness for, especially here).
There's an acerbic, frank piece of her that makes her want to say 'Exactly who do you think you're helping by shielding her?' - thinks out every syllable, even. Because what good was it to pretend things were different? To be willfully ignorant? But instead she strains a sip of low, bitter alcohol through her teeth and swallows both down. Taps her forefinger one, twice against the glass.]