The elf woman's face was contorted as pain siezed her thoughts, the burn of the ring, and the now pulsing throb in her palm stole her cognitive skills for the moment. Gasps were loosed from her lips, and sweat ran from her brow as she quivered.<br/><br/>Dirty clumps of silver hair swings as she shakes her head mutely, wildly, when the press of the spike registered in her other palm. A heavy breath is taken, and released in a scream as once more pain lanced in her brain, the scream now not just an inarticulate sound, but forming an elven expletive that resounded.<br/><br/>Unable to help herself, Lauralana sags against the spikes, her blood dripping from her palms, her breasts, and her nose, forming several drops below her, that if left to bleed would certainly become puddles. Slowly she lifts her heads towards Halae, a slightly unfocused gaze is given. Her last hope, was to royally piss this female off to where she kills her. "Tell me..Halae..." Her words are slightly breathless, "How does it feel to know that you will always be less then I? That if it came down to it your father would choose me over you any day?"