She’s grinning, a tauntingly cruel sight to behold, boldly walking closer towards the Saiyan.
“Aw, is that all you have to say? It’s your /beloved/ wife, after all.~”
+ words she knows hurt even worse due to her visage and voice, and she’s taking full advantage of it.
Her hand retracts itself from the wound and she rises up from the floor, calmly walking towards the exit, not even looking back before she ultimately exits, flying away.
Cold eyes look down at the bloody mess of the hybrid, unfeeling in their gaze even as he calls for his mother, a blank expression on her face as she rises to her feet again.
Dusting herself off, she approaches Goten, leaning her head down and meeting his gaze.
“I /could/ +
⠀⠀
In a ragged inhale of air. A strained weeping whimper cracking from his throat.
Hands block at his stomach, staining red quickly. His vision going in and out.
" M . . . Mom -- ... m - maa... ma h - h... el .. p. M ... mmm om m y.. . " he can barely get the words out.
+ put you out of your misery right here and now,” she began, a hand pressing itself directly on the wound.
“But instead, I’ll just leave you here to slowly die, bemoaning your fate—pitiful, yes? You deserve it, for thinking you could ever call yourself my son.”
Harsh words, +