Izzy sighed softly. This was probably a top second reason why she hated these places. But this was nor the place or time to make a fuss. 

She nodded to the girl in appreciation for a change of clothes, whenever that would come, and started undoing her bracers. They were plain black leather bracers, faded and worn, with two straps finished with might have once been silver buckles to hold them in place. Next to go was her cowl, which she lifted over her head and unwrapped the fabric from around her. Her hair poofed up some, though despite being disturbed, it retained it's shape and style. 

Her demenor changed completely however, when she moved her fingers to release the clasps of her shirt. It was a crimson, cloth shirt, enhanced with a black leather bodice that wrapped around her, from bust to waist. The now shredded sleeves were loose fitting, flaring at the elbows and tapered at the wrists. Without the cowl, the shirt was shown to have a modest neck line, one clasp was located here, while another held the bottom of the bodice together. The bodice itself was bound by a deep red cord that tied down the back. She neither flushed nor fussed, though she shifted with discomfort by the time she got to undoing to cord that bound her bodice. Pinning the shirt to her chest with her hand, she carefully made her way out of the sleeves. 

She was normally alone in any of these situations, no one but the medic to explain her actions to, and no one but the walls to notice her scars. But if anyone looked, they'd see the lash marks and burns on her back, the thick scars that encircled her wrists. Whatever tale they told, that's what she seemed more uncomfortable about. But there was something else too. Shame was embedded in her eyes as her head hung low, her chin driving towards her chest as if to help keep her shirt from falling. 

She remained quiet through the whole process, only hoping it would be over soon. The idea of dinner seemed to have slipped from her mind, the only thing that occupied her thoughts was sleep. 

[color=darkcyan][i]If this day can just end and we can move onto tomorrow, that would be great. My wounds aren't even that bad, just someone get me out of here[/i][/color], she thought to herself. And then she noticed Tirarrian. [Color=darkcyan][i] She has returned .... but why? [/i][/color]

[@Dragoknighte] [@The Fated Fallen]