[ Gamora doesn't know what she makes of this place, yet. She doesn't trust the Prismals, doesn't trust their intentions, doesn't trust any of her surroundings – but that's not unusual. The last time she trusted her instincts on something that felt off, she'd been right about a murderous planet-god, so living cautiously has, well, kept her alive.
But right now, it feels like her hands are tied, and she's mostly keeping herself occupied while she waits for things to shake out.
As she silently watches the city from beyond the viewing port, she's drawn out of her thoughts by a wet nose sniffing at her ankle. She glances down, and the sight of a curious dog blinking back at her curtails any instinct she had to kick something away. Her eyes soften as she kneels onto the floor, reaching to offer the back of her hand. ]
iii.
But right now, it feels like her hands are tied, and she's mostly keeping herself occupied while she waits for things to shake out.
As she silently watches the city from beyond the viewing port, she's drawn out of her thoughts by a wet nose sniffing at her ankle. She glances down, and the sight of a curious dog blinking back at her curtails any instinct she had to kick something away. Her eyes soften as she kneels onto the floor, reaching to offer the back of her hand. ]
Where did you come from?