Lauralana grunts as her head is forced upwards, her appearance no longer even resembling the calm, stoic elfwoman of just a day or so before. Her silver hair was matted with sweat, blood, and sand, her body adorned by the same except the blood there was her own. Her eyes were hollowed but wildness gleams from the green depths. Her features could only be described as feral as she grimaces against the irritating deep seated burn in so many parts of her body, the sealing of her magic adding insult to injury.<br/><br/>Yet the spawn was speaking to her, and it took the elf woman a long moment to realize that Halae was asking her a pointed question. Every fiber of her being told her to resist, o rail and fight, yet the reasonable side won over. She needed time to recover, to try and accustome herself to the burn and the lack of magic. So instead of speaking, not trusting her voice but also not quite willing to debase herself by agreeing to 'behave', Lauralana endured the spawn's fingers on her sensitive ears, her green eyes sliding closed even as her body shudders and she had to fight down the need to empty her stomach, though not much remained therein.