Khunbijin didn't speak as he worked through her motivations out loud. Her only response to him pressing his boot against her groin was to avert her eyes, her lips pursed into a thin line as if holding off the urge to snap and snarl at him like a rabid dog. That fury still burned in her gaze as she looked back at him.<br/><br/>He speculated on her plan. Truth be told, she didn't have one. Not one that had any hope of working, that is. She was a small peasant girl, daughter to a blacksmith. She could wield a blade with only a novice's proficiency and she certainly couldn't overpower a veteran with such a reputation for combat as the man before her. Her eyes burned with the need for vengeance but her heart was cold, resigned to the long game. Nevertheless, she had to admit to a strange amusement as he tried to puzzle out how a tiny peasant woman planned his murder. It was what she'd been relying on: the ridiculousness of it all. It would buy time, confuse, and hopefully intrigue him.<br/><br/>She was resigned to death. Khunbish never planned to live through this and, frankly, the chances of success were almost non-existent. But she had nothing more to lose. Nothing more for him or any other man to take.<br/><br/>The girl still said nothing, simply staring as he offered her water before placing it on the floor in front of her. Her gaze remained fixed for a moment longer before she slowly bent forward, slurping up the liquid with some difficulty, uncaring how it looked.<br/><br/>She looked up as he called his men back in, giving them instructions. A mix of fear and anger erupted within Khunbijin as she surmised what his plans for her were. But it was better than him simply slitting her throat. She'd had the desired effect. He underestimated her and she'd made him curious. For now, she was a minor amusement. It gave her time.<br/><br/>Her fists clenched in her bindings as the men reported they'd completed their assignment and Banguai approached her. She wanted to spit, to stand and kick and fight and bite, if only to resist. But she restrained herself, making only sounds of discomfort as he took hold of her hair, dragging her from his tent out to the stake they'd hammered into the ground that would be her bed for the night.<br/><br/>She gritted her teeth as her tore away her clothing, shivering as she felt the mountain chill upon her pale skin, her red burns stark against its whiteness. Yellowing bruises could be seen on her thighs. A week ago she had made her way into the region and had been set upon by army deserters. They'd made sport of her but had gotten bored when she wouldn't cry, returning to their drink and allowing her to crawl away. She assumed something similar would happen to her now as Banguai put her on display for all in the camp to see. Did he plan for them to gang rape her? Or would he beat her in front of them and take her himself?<br/><br/>She was surprised when he forbade any of his men from touching her but it didn't comfort. The night was getting cold and it became obvious he planned to leave her here, naked and exposed. He returned to his tent and she stared defiantly at the onlookers. They were a rabble of stinking cutthroats and she could see the lecherous, evil intentions in the eyes of every one of them. But none approached. She steeled herself, resisting the shivers from the cold and her own shame as she spread her legs wider, eyes defiantly daring them to touch her. She was sure each and every one of them deserved to have a wolf's jaws around their throat, after all.<br/><br/><br/>Morning came. Khunbijin had curled against the stake, her knees up to her chest in a feeble attempt to keep warm, ignoring the goings on as the camp roused itself and the day's activities began. She looked practically blue, completely still. Most likely thought she had frozen to death but still they did not touch her for fear of their master's threats.<br/><br/>When Banguai came to her to see if she was alive, her frost covered lashes fluttered, turning her face upward toward him, her lips skinning back from her teeth in an ugly sneer. "I still live, *chotgor. Disappointed?" Her teeth chattered even as her eyes bored into his with that same murderous intensity.<br/><br/><i>*Chotgor: "devil" in Mongolian</i>