There was a touch of something hot, and incredibly soft and gentle against her forehead. That touch sent millions of startled messages from the nerves in her skin to her brain, which triggered more and more reactions. She felt a strange beating in her chest, something that hadn't been there before. The fear rosewithin her, as she knew this was it. She had fought for so long, and so hard, to never let her guard down. When she slept, she did so sitting up so that she would not be too deep to hear a stealthy approach. When she ate, she did so on the move. And it had all been for naught. A simple, lowly thief had managed to catch her with her guard down, and left her alone, vulnerable.<br/><br/>But she wouldn't go without a fight. Already, the feeling was slowly returning to her limbs. It burned like crazy, but she used that too. She poured her fear, anger, hate, and pain all into one single idea. She gathered it up, clutched it to her chest, and let it grow, nurturing it with a heated passion. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she was ready. The entire process had felt like ages, but in reality, only the span of a few heartbeats had passed. She felt groggy, weak, and dizzy, but the image of a figure looming over her was all she needed. She aimed at that, and with a cry of panic, let the spell fly. If she had been healthy, the fireball would have been large enough, and strong enough, to incinerate a man. This one, was decidedly weaker. It was the size of an apple, and flew in a slow, drunken wobble, missing him completely.<br/><br/>She had failed. It was over. All she could do was moan again as she sagged back, trying to pull away from his touch, and the knife the was bound to follow.