<strong>Sorcha may be getting out of the cooler...</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://www.flicksandbits.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/centurion-olga.jpg)</div><br/>As before Sorcha had to really concentrate on the accent that the Leader Man had, the Leader of more metal men, she did not wholly trust him but at least it seemed he would let her out, though what by the lands he was holding in her hands was a complete mystery, some odd metal with a shape to it. She blinked slowly at his orders preferring the company of grass eyes, though at least this bastard had not beaten her, though it seemed he had other plans for her, and whatever they were, surely would not be pleasant.<br/><br/>However she did as told and after sniffing the mug, drank the wine when offered, Sorcha was not sure if she liked the taste or not but was thirsty and her mouth still felt strange as did her head slightly. The pict tilted her had listening to the conversation between the two, there seemed to be tension there perhaps though it was hard to tell, these men were very alien to her, as were their ways.<br/><br/><em> Please grass eyes…</em>then she remembered that the Dominus understood and clammed up. Still, being restrained was better than this pit of filth and stench. However metal man was the one that could let her out, and as well as that she had slipped the chains before.<br/><br/>Autolycus could see her circle her wrists and then roll her shoulders as she had done before as if preparing. Even if this man could speak her language he did not understand, she believed the other man in the room knew more about walking softly upon the earth. However for now Sorcha followed her intrusions’, swallowing hard. The infusion at least had been taken. With her back to him the bruises were even more apparent. At least once out of the cage the pict could continue to plan her escape.<br/><br/>