Misha shoots him a glare but ignores his words, instead choosing to focus on the rough rumbling of the truck collapsing into slow, slow, and then a stop as the wheels trekked across the gravel. [i]Oh, you meant it,[/i] she thought, nails digging into her palms. She poised herself to attack their captors, if needed - but really she just felt tired. She wanted to sleep, not brave another fight.