Her answer came in her movements; one hand crossed her body to shove hard at the sword he'd left embedded in her shoulder, crying out as it sliced her palm and the meat of her shoulder. Wordlessly, though, she lifted both hands to press hard against his chest, hissing softly the chant she'd made before.<br/><br/>Before his eyes, and against his chest armor, the wounds of the sword closed up and flashed out through her upraised hands against him, another desperate attempt to force the wounds into HIS body.