[ Gamora tugs off her undershirt as she listens to Peter, dropping the practically-shredded bit of fabric to the side. She pulls on the shirt Peter offered her, and even though the fit is a little odd, it still serves its purpose.

She turns back to Peter, gathering her hair and pulling it over her shoulder to deal with the hectic curls – a style courtesy of being thrown through the air. ]

A lot has been dropped on your shoulders.

[ It's an empathetic statement as much as it is agreeing with his assessment of reality. ]

And it's not often people have a window into their future. But—

[ She stops short, frowning as she seems to reevaluate her thoughts. ]

It isn't set in stone.