Nerves tied tight in bundles throughout, Fern's posture betrays a tenseness, an alertness to every subtle nuance as Adamion stalks foreward, his gaze intent on the straps.  Readied for flight, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet, Fern complies with the steel in his voice, lightly stroking down the length of Miaren's back.  Left momentarily without recourse Fern's only actions, those dictated.<br/><br/>Unable to meet her gaze by posture and by the wash of embarrassed shame brought by her unthinking words Fern instead focuses her panicked eyes on the gravel beneath her feet.  That, at least, was safe and understood.  Solid earth, the crunch of stone slipping against stone underfoot.  It was familiar, bringing a profound sense of longing to again walk the streets of her home.  To feel the night breezes as she melted from shadow to shadow.<br/><br/>Breath forcing itself through flared nostrils brought no calming touch as she tried desperately to remind herself of the calming exercises necessary before each new venture.  Her heart thrubbing hard against her rib cage brought an ache to her breasts she had not felt in all of her nocturnal wanderings.  Always before there was a way out. Always before an avenue of escape.