My pride spoke and my anger spoke. It was... wrong of me.

[ Adjusting, her arm settled around her shoulders, tilting her head so Myira could settle as she pleased where it was comfortable. A little too big, after all, to pick her up. But enough space there for her to bury all her tears. ]

When you have been at war... [ Well, long enough. ] You forget how you seem. How you are. What you are. It was not right of me to do... disregard what you were saying, simply because of that, and my position has often meant I do.