[b]Ranch, Basement[/b]

A few droplets of water had landed on Montana's shoes, dousing their polished sheen with a mixture of water, and spittle. It was all liquid, and the distinction made no difference as he knelt to wipe his shoes. [color=slategray]"The water and food will remain with you, should you muster the strength."[/color] He bound her hands in front of her, and left the plate, now flanked by the flask, within her reach. 

He turned away from Oren, fixing his voids on Dawn. [color=slategray]"In a time long passed, I'd have considered a variable like this unacceptable."[/color] He walked toward the door, and the stairway above. He paused when he was beside her. [color=slategray]"One could suppose that altruism is still alive in the ash."[/color] He patted Dawn's shoulder, allowing his murderous intent to dissipate into the deep pool of his conscious mind.  

Dawn's interference marked an end to Montana's torture regimen, because she had ascribed Oren importance beyond her usefulness for intelligence, and beyond her life being ended to avoid their location being returned to the Erubescian military. Thus, in Montana's mind, further torture would be fruitless.