The woman with snakes as a hair piece tormented her now. She leaned close to her and the snakes hissed wildly, mere inches away from her face. Some were venturing forth, and, although they did not bite, she could feel their split tongues tasting at her skin, as if drinking her sweat. She glared into the woman's eyes and took in her insults, her rage reaching the end of her limits. Her voice, her perfidious, infectious voice, so sweet and feminine, so vile and horrid. The snakes, slithering, writhing, stretching towards her, touching her almost, a certain allure, like an animalistic aura, covering her, making her tremble, making her naked breast become somehow heavier, her nipple erect from fear...<br/><br/>Catulus started talking, and this time, it was one plain, simple word that caught Galla's undivided attention. SHE. Galla turned to face him, as if she were a dog whose ears turned every time someone else spoke. She certainly felt like a bitch on display. She narrowed her eyes as she heard of this "she", apparently a woman, who had apparently suggested she be brought in as a slave. At that moment, Galla did not understand, and the understanding of this complex fact would evade her for quite some time. But she immediately harboured great anger and hatred for this woman, yet another traitor who dared establish her role in life. Even though her life had taken a turn for the worse. She dismissed the idea immediately, but when Catulus told Sthenae to apprehend her, Galla lost her barely visible control.<br/><br/><br/>The cursed monster, after insulting her, calling her a slut, nothing more than a miserable instrument for the pleasure of men - and women -, tempted her again with the fresh food. It was all that she could take. Galla charged at her, closing the space between them instantly. Yes, she was chained, but she could obviously walk and she fought against her restraints, her dirty feet not faltering on the floor. She was beside Sthenae and she wanted to hit her with her bound arms, the weights on them sufficient to knock the woman down. "You are the slut, monster!" She bellowed and raised her arms against her, ignoring the wild, uncontrollable hissing of the snakes. She wanted revenge, a minimal amount of solace, and she wanted it then and there. And she thought that perhaps, if she struck down the woman, she would be punished. She did not care for the orator's "mercy", for his honourable intentions, for his desire to help her and direct her to a higher purpose. It had been her honour that which she had defended all those years, and she would lose it if she did not fight back. Bitterly. To the end. Her arms, burdened by the chains did not come down as fast as she had intended, but they were in the snakes' range of attack. Fury blinded Galla, as it always had, from the very beginning of her existence.