Quick-Pull Trigger

When Azrael had made it into the den, Vanille was able to go quiet as she held her head under her paws. A face he probably didn't have to see while she was tense everywhere on her body but it would have been a clear expression of pain. There was no doubt about that.

Azrael more demanding than her lucid mind would have liked but that didn't matter. All of her energy was being drawn into the excruciating pain that surged all through her head. It took her a few seconds, but at least she was quiet while he waited for her to answer. A whine, "It hurts." English, signs that the drugs he had administered not long ago were fading. Not that he would have known previously that it was her first language. She was too focused on the problem at hand to pull herself back and remember how she got here and what they were doing to her. Not enough thought power to tell her to get through the pain and run the other direction. Not enough to be scared of him. She wouldn't be in enough control to be able to get up and walk on her own back to his alchemy dungeon. But she would be willing to go with him whenever he pulled her out of here.

"Vanille"