Fox's Glade mellon collie and the infinite sadness

She can see the woman's discomfort, and her cheeks heat with embarrassment. But before she can stammer out an apology and take a step back, the pale wolf's words register. He's nice, I suppose. It sounds so simple, so... dismissive. She almost can't believe it. The man who had stolen the love of her mother and siblings, who had taken for himself the life Stark had been meant to have, and in the process ruined hers — reduced to a simple kind sentence. A pleasantry. He's not nice, She snaps, taking it for ignorance despite how much it feels like an insult. The hair along her spine bristles as she speaks. He's — he's a thief and a fraud. He's not nice. Take it back.