Her mouth was dry.

As she stumbled out of a back door of a ramshackle storage warehouse, she noticed that her mouth was dry, which was a first in the … not even a week? A month? Of freedom. Escaping had been… uncomfortable. Unpleasant. Waking up trapped, again, and being forced to do someone else’s bidding, again, was infinitely unpleasant. She didn’t know where Alex was, she didn’t know what had happened to Iron Works, if they’d been looped into this situation? She didn’t know ANYTHING! It was [color=Red][i]agonizing! Worrying! Stressful and heartwrenching! Were they hurt?![/i][/color]

Finding freedom again was and is infinitely more pleasant, especially since the ‘people’ who held her were … incapacitated. [color=Magenta]Jemma[/color] nodded to herself, staring down at her feet as she walked. It’d been maybe, at most, five minutes? Ten? She could still smell her most recent escapade on her hands, which was a weird thing to notice, since she’d been thorough in her clean up. 

An animal, gamey smell, like a deer, or some great bear… underlied by blood, and something just off enough to make her half.

“Bonjour,” came a voice— Unexpected and temporarily welcomed! Up until the woman walking over kept talking, and the smell grew… More.  Jemma’s eyes narrowed as she came to a full stop. The world rippled in her vision as she relaxed her focus. Everything was doused in shades of black, outlined in foggy strands of white; colors in all sorts of prismatic clouds and streaks, banded through the air. This woman, Jane Doe, as she called herself, was surrounded by a miasma of her own. 

Tiny ‘instincts’, foreign-intrusive thoughts, were quieter now than they had been, though they still whispered. [i][Color=Red]Unfamiliar. Wrong. Deceiver? Subjugate. Consume![/color][/i]

Whipping lights streamed away from Jane, some of them riddled with primal fear and panic, while others were gnarls of all colors of the rainbow, nothing concrete, nothing recognizable. There were emotions of all kinds, and Jemma frowned when she couldn’t read them with any… accuracy.
So, she spoke, her voice thick with tension and wariness. 

“[color=Magenta]Hi Jane, uh, have— I’m sorry, have we met? I have… had a very bad day. And I would really rather just… get home? I’m sorry about your… uh… albino rabbit friend? I uh, if you have a phone, I can give you the contact of someone who can help?[/color]” She muttered, hunching her shoulders and doing everything she could to try to keep her expectations high. Maybe this woman was … normal? The fuzzy legs definitely weren’t normal, but neither was Jemma, so who was she to judge?