Briar trembled in fear, her ears pressed flat over her smoothe, dark hair. Goose bumps rose on her flesh... her unmarked flesh. The ... the lady thing was going to hit her. She knew it, could feel it though she'd long since ceased to make sense of the lady's words. They rolled together into one, soft threatening sound.<br/><br/>Feeling the vines move, towing her to another area of the room, she began to writhe a bit, attempting to pull her small, soft limbs free from the unyielding restrains. She mewled softly once more, finding the binds too strong for her small, pliant form to rest free from.<br/><br/>She rested the side of her face against the bed. So soft, the covers were so soft. Perhaps the lady would leave her here like this, resting on such a soft bed... but no... the lady was speaking again, right next to her. Touching her softly... in a reassuring way... but she was not reassured. She was afraid...so very afraid. Then there was the sudden movement... space between her and the lady.. and pain.. so much pain from the living, red rope in the lady's hand. She cried out, burying her face in the soft covers to muffle the sound of her own cry, never having heard herself in so much pain before and the claws of the living rope raked down the delicate flesh of her back.