[center][color=plum][h2]Dwyn[/h2][/color][/center]

Roused from her despair by the ear-piercing shriek, Dwyn retreated a few steps as the monstrosity rose, watching its convulsions with a mixture of disgust and concern. The terror was still there, but it was so constant that she'd almost grown used to the pounding of her heart and the anticipation of death in every shadow. Of course the display was sickening - the accompanying wail from the strange man only serving to increase her suspicions further.

But she felt numb as she blinked the dust out of her eyes, as distant as if this were all happening to somebody else. She'd passed the point of fear, straight into denial. A pathetic, easily-broken shell the only thing keeping her from screaming for herself. But what would it help? What would any of it help?

It was fairly monstrous, the sheer agony that the thing suffered in what she assumed were its final moments. Gods only knew what horrific magic was running through that creation, but she could do nothing but hope she'd ended its pain somehow. That the black ritual was the only thing giving it any sort of life, and it now laid in blissful sleep. A pretty idea, and one that brought with it a flash of longing. What was it keeping her from falling onto her own blade?

With a moment's thought, Dwyn came to a simple conclusion. That there [i]was[/i] no profound reason - she just didn't want to die.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she could have [i]sworn[/i] she heard a voice cursing her, and another raised in thanks. As if she didn't have enough on her mind, she gritted her teeth. [color=plum]"[i]Shut up[/i]. [b]Both[/b] of you."[/color] Her words were short and clipped, grimacing in equal parts fear and frustration as she realised she was addressing no-one but herself.

What a sorry little madwoman she was becoming. Though there was comfort to be found in being a little less than sane. Better to bend than to be broken, better to flee than to fight. To cast aside pride and victory, in favour of fulfilling your duty. Though she had never been strong enough to keep to her duties before her own survival, perhaps breathing for another day could count as a mission of its own. There were worse reasons to keep moving, were there not?

He was still there, and she stepped back, nodding at his frustration. [color=plum]"Of course. My curiosity is--"[/color] a quick look back at the splattered guts and scattered scriptures, [color=plum]"More than satisfied."[/color] But there was no time to dedicate to apologies. If her suspicions about their survival - or lack thereof - were correct, then it was the least she could do to make the most of whatever time her allies had bought.

With that in mind, she made her way over to the rope, finally climbing to try and reach the hooded man's position as quickly as she could.