"Why did you bring me here? What was the point?"

She sits with her head in her hands while her tail droops limply across her thigh. She squeezes at her temples, careful to press with her palms to keep her claws from breaking the skin. There is so much pressure building inside of her. But the old releases, even just the thought of them, makes her stomach fill with crawling legs and butterfly wings. 

"No reaction, no impression. Not to anything. I don't matter? Is that the lesson? Easier to let me die. Should've let me die. I [i]wanted[/i] you to... nngh."

She is not speaking to Thist. She isn't bothering to keep her voice down for her, either. She squeezes her head and ignores every offer of tissues, of nuts, and of information and advice. Her arms start to tingle with the force of her blood squeezing inside of them, and she lets them fall away from her head. She doesn't tilt her head or look around for an answer; for all the time he spent fucking around inside of her head and twisting her into whatever hollow mess she was now, he'd never felt the need to offer her a single word of explanation. Why would he start now?

XIII snorts. She shakes her head. She stands as if someone lit the couch on fire from underneath her, though not before snatching the bag of daric with one hand. She clutches it tightly as she stares at the everything in the room except for the woman helping her with the kind of gaze that suggests she wants it all to burn. Out. Out. Out out out out out out out! Air. Need air. No more words, no more lessons, need air!

"Fuck you," she snaps, "If you're so smart, you figure it out." 

She moves with the careless grace of a person who long since forgot what it meant to explain her comings and goings. For countless days, or weeks, or months or... she couldn't think about the possibilities beyond that, there had been nothing in the way of her urges to wonder except walls. And those were nothing but suggestions left behind by a ship she'd killed herself. It's only an even older habit and the strictest of training that makes her walk toward the door at all. 

Even still, she pauses in the frame. Even still, she turns her head to look at Thist with her good eye. Even still, she nods. 

"I won't," she calls from over her shoulder, "Break my promise. I'll never. Just... get to work."

She's through the door and gone before another word can follow her. Out. Out. Out. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. If there's a reason for all this, then show her. But do it somewhere else.