Wanda offers a light shrug as he admits that he doesn't entirely miss his mother. Once more, she is understanding that she doesn't know the whole story. Not everyone's parents are delightful—she had seen as much in Bucky's memories—and it's not fair to compare the image of her loving parents frozen in time to that of those who get to live normal lives. It's not like Wilhelm sees her shrugging, or her lack of judgement over his words.
The latter statement, however, she can empathize with.
"In this world we can be whoever we want to be, our pasts no longer chaining us to the morality stereotypes of Abraxas," and she has had time to think about it, away from the others who come from her world—tucked away in Solvunn, where she can just be Wanda.
She follows his hand as he traces over the Empress card. She raises it upward just the same as she had done with The Tower one, but this one remains afloat over the table, a few inches above the rest.
"The mother figure. It is about creativity, fulfillment, productivity," things which, albeit desirable, Wanda could never be; too scarred by the war and destruction of her world and loved ones. And yet— "I do. Two boys."
With an inhale of breath, she swallows and straightens her back.
"They were... about eleven, so I can't imagine what kind of mother I would have been to them if they were your age," she offers a small smile, pulling at her sleeves over her wrists and towards her knuckles. "I had to let them go before coming here. It was the right thing to do."
The Empress card falls back down onto the table, and Wanda twirls her finger so that The Hanged Man hangs in the air now, pulling towards her hand.
"The Hanged Man is all about a period of transition, of making sacrifices. Of letting go. Nothing good or bad comes of it." As she turns it over on her hand so that the drawing faces Wilhem, she continues. "This is the sign given to me. It does feel like a slap to the face how close they come to something hurtful, don't they?"
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The latter statement, however, she can empathize with.
"In this world we can be whoever we want to be, our pasts no longer chaining us to the morality stereotypes of Abraxas," and she has had time to think about it, away from the others who come from her world—tucked away in Solvunn, where she can just be Wanda.
She follows his hand as he traces over the Empress card. She raises it upward just the same as she had done with The Tower one, but this one remains afloat over the table, a few inches above the rest.
"The mother figure. It is about creativity, fulfillment, productivity," things which, albeit desirable, Wanda could never be; too scarred by the war and destruction of her world and loved ones. And yet— "I do. Two boys."
With an inhale of breath, she swallows and straightens her back.
"They were... about eleven, so I can't imagine what kind of mother I would have been to them if they were your age," she offers a small smile, pulling at her sleeves over her wrists and towards her knuckles. "I had to let them go before coming here. It was the right thing to do."
The Empress card falls back down onto the table, and Wanda twirls her finger so that The Hanged Man hangs in the air now, pulling towards her hand.
"The Hanged Man is all about a period of transition, of making sacrifices. Of letting go. Nothing good or bad comes of it." As she turns it over on her hand so that the drawing faces Wilhem, she continues. "This is the sign given to me. It does feel like a slap to the face how close they come to something hurtful, don't they?"