Gideon crosses her arms. Of course Harrow would have a violence policy that doesn't apply the entirety of Gideon's life until this moment. Not particularly impressive. Most sense evaporates in Harrow's presence, but Gideon manages to bite her tongue instead of sarcastically asking who else would dare to open the Locked Tomb? Since she made Harrow an orphan and all that. Guilt piles on her as much as Harrow, but it's familiar guilt, the burden she'll carry around her whole life and, knowing the Ninth, until her skeleton finally breaks down if she doesn't manage to get stay away from the house.

"Don't know how anyone dragged you away from that pit in the ground," Gideon mutters. A moment before, she had no idea other systems (beyond the ones they are fighting) exist or that any other god exists. "At least this one likes color. What's her/your cause then? Beyond not hitting kids." Which is already a huge step up from the Ninth. No one's ever held back on her account. Even when Harrow's the one in the wrong.