The words spoken by the nearly nude man made Danielle scoff, rolling her eyes. His extremes ricocheted off of her, bouncing without harming her in any way. Perhaps it was a slight twinge of anger that pierced her heart as he spoke so disrespectfully, but it was to be expected from a clear cut enemy, which this man was. Her husband had lacked in just about every department, but he was still just that--her husband. He had his soft side, his humorous and bitter personality that never failed to smile. He was a coward, but one that the young woman still cared for. To be spoken to so harshly when he was only hours dead was salting the wound, and it wasn't long before her expression flashed with the irritation of his words. "What do you know?" She barked, sitting on her knees. "All you have done is kill and rape, a bastard of a knight in shining armor, I must say."<br/><br/>As she spoke. he advanced towards her with a speed she had not calculated. His movements had previously been so slow and deliberate, stalking his prey like a cat on a mouse. Now, suddenly, he was quite near to the bed. She shifted on her knees uncomfortably, feeling a familiar tingle of numbness from sitting so awkwardly. Her dress was rather annoying, and she feared she would trip on it when trying to launch herself away from the man when he finally would pounce. He was at the edge of the bed by the time she had considered that obstacle, and she didn't have time to untuck the fabric from beneath her knees. Her eyes had to stay locked on him, looking both threatened and threateningly at her captor. She was far enough away that she sat still when his thick hand wrapped around the post, waiting for the last moment she could move to do so. Any sooner and he may cut her off with a shortcut, something that would prove to be just as detrimental as her not moving at all. And so, like a sitting duck, she watched the hunter.<br/><br/>He moved towards her with a seeming purpose, one that loomed over the both of them like virgin newlyweds. Certainly he wouldn't feel the pressure that crippled the young widow, but it was a heavy weight to bear on her shoulders. It was when she went to move that her fear became substance--she was quickly restricted by the skirt of her dress, making her fumble and topple over with the aid of the man's hand. She screamed--more in surprise than in fear--and landed on her back, slightly tilted to be laying sideways as she propped herself up with her elbows. She tried to scoot back, even lifting a leg to kick the man.