[how can such a simple question be so loaded? Tempest shrugs a shoulder, fingers fiddling with the kerchief in her hands. Something to focus on, instead of the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her head]
Mm. Worse than before, I think. Not from what was done, though . . .
no subject
Mm. Worse than before, I think. Not from what was done, though . . .