"P-pretty?! M-me?" The monstrous White Widow muttered, tapping her clawed fingers together nervously as she subconsciously nuzzled her head into Belladonna's hand.
Her Chelicera, which were blended with her cheeks and concealed her fangs within her mouth, shifted and clicked as she digested Belladonna's words.
"If you don't mind me asking..." Belladonna asked softly, keeping her voice gentle and soothing as she approached the conversation like it was a bomb.
"How old are you?"
"Well... I uh... I'm 154." The Widow said, wriggling her Chelicera again.
Belladonna frowned softly and subtly glanced over her shoulder towards Revenant, who held up fingers. One on one hand, two on the other.
Twelve. In human years, she was Twelve.
Belladonna's heart sunk at the realisation of what that meant, not just in this timeline, but in the last one too.
