[ "Aleta." A name she's only passingly familiar with, but she's drawn to the revelation of her life as a Ravager, intrigued by the similarities and divergences. She wonders if the passing shred of mercy was Yondu's outstretched hand – or rather, his tractor beam that brought that young girl aboard.
A twinge in her chest. Envy? Regret? She knows a life as a Ravager isn't a pretty one, but she'd have traded the torment of Thanos for a roughnecked childhood in a second. But—
The reminder of "if not Gamora, whom?" sits directly across the table from her. And Gamora finds she would rather wear those scars herself than see them etched into Peter's history.
A muscle in her jaw tics once, but then she nods, betraying little else in her expression. ]
no subject
A twinge in her chest. Envy? Regret? She knows a life as a Ravager isn't a pretty one, but she'd have traded the torment of Thanos for a roughnecked childhood in a second. But—
The reminder of "if not Gamora, whom?" sits directly across the table from her. And Gamora finds she would rather wear those scars herself than see them etched into Peter's history.
A muscle in her jaw tics once, but then she nods, betraying little else in her expression. ]
Your question.