Bramblepoint for neither ever, nor never

the queen moves near, and Isi does not react in the slightest. she is numb, so terribly numb, and yet Hydra's question manages to kick-start the logical part of her mind, barely discernible amongst the chaos of her thoughts. she blinks her eyes closed, ragged breath not slowing in the slightest as she thinks back. 

the blood, in the water, so much of it. bile, not his, but her's, dragomir's. the flies, buzzing, droning, deafening—

she blinks her eyes open and the queen is still there, calm, unmoving. she chokes back another sob ungracefully, gaze flying to the woman's features. think. a moment later, and it comes together. "killed. he was killed. so much blood, in the water—" a breath, and she's close to shutting down again, but hydra's stillness is something of an anchor, and she finishes, "his." from where, she does not know, only that it had surrounded him like a dark cloud. the knowledge that his death is by the hands of something, someone else has ice seep through her veins, and in the brief moment of clarity dread grants her, she thinks of that woman. it is a half-formed, dim thought, and it vanishes just as quickly as she slips into silence, gaze fixed on the mountain queen, trembling.