Soft pants of breath caressing the polished wood beneath her, her only response to his words.  Unfurling fingers offer a delicate caress of commiseration as Fern's small hand finds Miaren's flank, soothing herself as well as Miaren with the simple contact.<br/><br/>Body and intimate flesh quivering in anticipated worry as Adamion's questing fingers continue their relentless path.  Every breath of chilled breeze across her opened folds mingle with his heated touch.  Unwilling though her mind may be, a knowledgeable touch brings shivers of what can only be called pleasure coursing through her.<br/><br/>That very pleasure adding to the fear.  Fear of what was being accomplished on Miaren, what they would then do with her, of what she would become.  She knew without needing to expend thought beyond instinct, the women from earlier, that is what she and Miaren would become should Adamion's plans for them came to fruition.<br/><br/>"Please, I'll do whatever you want.  Just please, I don't, I cant.. please don't.. I don't want to lose me."<br/><br/>Incautious words come out in a hushed, whispered rush, begging to retain that which was the only thing of value she owned.  Her own mind.  Cringing against what she knows not, her neck bows, forehead down in begging supplication.