[ unarmed and disrobed, cara mason suspects that she's at a prime disadvantage in regards to defending herself against her captors. without her agiels, perhaps she shouldn't be formulating threats, but her lips twist into an angered purse regardless of her situation. no seeker, no confessor, and the wizard is, of course, incredibly useful in that he's missing from this scenario — which leaves her without any form of a magical exit from this prison, forced to fend for herself. she ignores the blue liquid dripping down her form — nudity is hardly foreign to a mordsith and blushing like an innocuous virgin trying to preserve her modesty would be an absurd course of action — and pushes forward, restraining the urge to sputter and spit as the goo slides over her lips. they curl in a snarl as one hand lashes forward, attempting to pull the closest individual into her firm grasp. ]
You. [ even while defenseless, she manages to make an attempt at looking intimidating, posture rigid and eyes filled with intense disdain and frustration. ] Where am I.
[ somehow, she makes even where am i sound more like a command. ]
cara mason | legend of the seeker
You. [ even while defenseless, she manages to make an attempt at looking intimidating, posture rigid and eyes filled with intense disdain and frustration. ] Where am I.
[ somehow, she makes even where am i sound more like a command. ]