The sensation of him popping free of her left her feeling stretched, used and empty, and it was all the elf could do not to turn over and bolt for the trees as he reached for the awful thing that encircled her neck. He whispered, and it felt almost as if it shifted, the sensation of it like a thousand ants warm and wriggling and trapped against the skin of her throat, before it subsided and she felt the flow of Diune's blessing suddenly returned to her, like a limb somehow abruptly regrown.<br/><br/>The sense of it was like being enveloped by home, and she let out a soft, joyous sob as she sat half up, lips already moving in prayer. She was sitting almost upon her hip, drawing the leg with the injured appendage up so that she could arch her hand over it like a parasol.<br/><br/>As before, her eyes grew distant as she called down the assistance of her goddess, and the deep red mouth of the slash he'd carved into the sole of her foot took on a brilliant, silvery cast. As it did, her words became louder, more urgent, though in a language fluid and entirely incomprehensible to the human.<br/><br/>Then with a flinging motion and an apologetic-sounding cry, she seemed to dash the silver glow away from her, and in the root of the tree he'd caught her climbing, a similar gash appeared, and then the glow subsided, and she dropped her hand with a gasp for breath, revealing her flesh to have once again been made whole.