[The next breath is unfettered by weight, and she is acutely aware of the feeling of her lungs expanding, of a lightness in her shoulders, through her limbs. Her fingers close and open on air. No more gloves. No more of that weight. She hopes the woman this room belongs to doesn't feel that all the time. No one should have to, especially when it's undeserved. She's seen little to indicate any amount of deserving that.]

I'm sorry.

[Sorry Rogue's felt that way, or sorry she's intruded? It could be both. Either way, the words are spoken to the room at large, to wherever the manifestation of Rogue is hiding. Leaning in towards the table, she holds her hands out towards the small glow of warmth.]