[It may take a while, as, after a few moments, she loses the battle to keep it inside. There's been too much that she's bottled up to hold back. She is mostly crying from the terror of a death that could take her at any moment, the loss of a chance to ever see her sister or her best friend again, and a sense of futility from knowledge of a death waiting for her back mere weeks after escaping a more terrible death, but she never let herself cry over her last weeks in Vaclav's dungeons, over her anger at being made an experiment once more, over her fear of being captured by the rogue Malnosso in a too similar situation, or even over Shirley's depature. These and many more cause her to break into tears like a dam bursting.
There are people who manage to cry beautifully, but Fenimore is not one of them. She skips straight past sobbing into an outright wail, only slightly muffled by his shoulder. It's interrupted by hiccups as she tries to suppress it, but it arises again another couple of times before it settles into sobbing. There's a moment where she starts to scream, shaking to the point of almost struggling, before she collapses into sobbing and crying almost like a child, frustration and anger fueling the tears more than sadness.
But, eventually, if he waits through it, she will eventually slow down to occasional, quiet sobs and then, finally, silence. She doesn't move, though, and holds on limply, most of the tension drained from her body.
...He'll probably need to wash that shirt, though, as her nose ran almost as much as her eyes.]
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There are people who manage to cry beautifully, but Fenimore is not one of them. She skips straight past sobbing into an outright wail, only slightly muffled by his shoulder. It's interrupted by hiccups as she tries to suppress it, but it arises again another couple of times before it settles into sobbing. There's a moment where she starts to scream, shaking to the point of almost struggling, before she collapses into sobbing and crying almost like a child, frustration and anger fueling the tears more than sadness.
But, eventually, if he waits through it, she will eventually slow down to occasional, quiet sobs and then, finally, silence. She doesn't move, though, and holds on limply, most of the tension drained from her body.
...He'll probably need to wash that shirt, though, as her nose ran almost as much as her eyes.]