Tim must be very hungry! It was a lot of cake. Enough to coat the entire living room with icing to spare. [stepping closer to his bed, every intention of continuing the casual banter -- ]
[but something about stepping close sends her gaze downwards and her mood with it. Maybe she hasn't yet earned the right to hear what she wants him to tell her, but she at least needs to let him know]
Allen... I understand a little, now. Why there are promises you can't make, and why it was cruel of me to ask it of you. [She'd gone to the church of course, to close it. The footage replayed on her communicator as she took in all the blood. She can't look at him as she recalls it, instead looking down at her hands, resting tentatively on the edge of the mattress.]
[She's not used to this kind of war. Her war was fought with machines and long range weapons, killing by the press of a button. Not the ghastly torment she'd seen on that video. Things like that, for her, were the stuff of ghost stories and long-forgotten history. Until last night, that is. So she'd sat in that church, the thing she'd built as a symbol of peace and unity, now stained and tainted. She hadn't let herself clean up the blood yet, and neither had she let herself sleep.]
[Her hair hangs down to hide her expression; her voice is soft and sad, but accepting. She isn't going to presume she knows the whole of it, and what she does know is intense enough that she's no longer sure she wishes to.]