[img]http://i.imgur.com/MMhK4f8.png[/img]

The moment Angora had cried out, pleading with her captors-come-healers to stop their treatment, the painted woman had released her grip over her head, over her senses. The blinding agony slowly began to fade from Angora's skull, replaced by a feeling of euphoria, a sense of freedom. She was no longer just the Untamed, a mere vessel for the entity that had been residing within the Black Sword - she could remember her name, her family, she was Angora Kelenwyn, daughter of Erik and Iora Kelenwyn, sister to Reikard, Yvann and Karl. It was as though a veil of mist had been lifted from her eyes, from her very consciousness. She looked at those who had been restraining her, and she began to cry tears of joy. She was not seized with fear of them, there was no desire to destroy them, to slaughter them before they could do the same to her. Then, she began to realise just what these strangers had done for her, immediately after she had tried to *kill* them: she owed her healing, nay, her very life to these people. They had had the opportunity to butcher her like a common animal, and they had not. They had had the opportunity to subdue her and leave her bleeding on the side of a road or simply to leave her as a naked savage in the forests for a bounty hunter to track down and kill for some pitiful amount of money, but they had not. They had shown her mercy after (admittedly rather brutally) subduing her, they had healed her of her injuries, and now they had restored her control over her own body, perhaps arguably her sanity. She owed them. She owed them in a big way.

"Th-thank you..." she stammered out, before stopping herself out of surprise. Her voice: it still had the ethereal echo to it that Angora remembered had been present when the entity had first merged with her mind. She could still feel the presence of the entity in the back of her head, but it was not fighting, it was sedate and almost benign. She tried to reach out to it mentally, to communicate with it, and the response took Angora off-guard: it almost seemed to respond to her commands. She looked at the green-skinned man, who seemed to translate for the painted healer, who probably couldn't speak Rodorian well, and smiled. "Your friend's help... the presence within has been subdued. It almost seems to have become an ally, instead of a controller. It works with me, instead of controlling my actions. I think... I think there will be no repeat of my actions. You... you have my undying gratitude. I owe you all." She looked at the old man and the warrior as well, as she continued talking; "I owe all of you so much. You could've slaughtered me, but you didn't. You've saved me, helped me, healed me. I want to... I want to repay you. I want to help you somehow." Angora hesitated for a moment. "I don't know what you're doing, or where you're going - to the City, I assume - but I want to help you. I want to go with you. I don't remember much of the City, but I can remember enough. Let me... Let me go with you. I want to repay my debt to you, even if it costs me everything. You all deserve that much. I'm sorry. I look back at these things I've done when that... that thing was in control, and I shudder. I used to do the most horrible things..."

Angora slowly sat up, her headache still present but now simply a dull throb instead of the splitting pain of before. She looked around at her surroundings, the clearing in the forest. Then her attention switched to herself: she looked at the ragged and torn state of her clothes, at the myriad of jewellery on her hands and her fingers, and- Wow. That was a strong smell. It was her... Her face immediately blazed bright red in embarrassment as she realised what an absolute state she must be to these strangers. "Oh gods. I must not have bathed in months." Her hair was matted, greasy and filthy, her skin seemed to have dirt ingrained into its very surface, there were sweat stains in all the wrong places (furthering Angora's embarrassment). She looked at the ground and shifted uneasily. "I, uh... I know of some streams and such nearby. If you, erm, need water, or anything, I can probably lead you there?" She looked at the green-skinned man and motioned for him to translate for the healer. The healer whose name she didn't even know and who had saved her life in more than one way.

Angora's life had just taken a very very interesting turn.