Donovan didn't flinch when Methuseld suddenly lunged forward. The thick ropes stopped her in her tracks, keeping any part of her body from reaching him. Even with her body pushing fully against the ropes, she was still held a few inches from him. He could see the alertness return to her eyes, a glimmer of intelligence as she took in her situation - very likely *not* like what she had anticipated. He listened quietly as she 'interrogated' him, demanding answers for his actions. When she inquired again with a deep, powerful, "Well?!?", he finally froze and raised his eyes to meet hers.<br/><br/>"You're welcome," he answered her, completely ignoring her curiosity. "The building was coming down, the fire was spreading, and you were unconscious and pinned beneath the rubble. For -some- reason I decided to pull you from it... perhaps that reason was for assurance that the Vizier won't come after us so eagerly now, afraid to wound his pet," Donovan said, his lips curling into a hint of a sneer. "Or perhaps I brought you along as a prisoner so that my friend and I won't have to face you again anytime soon," he said, then he leaned forward slightly, his face inches from hers. "Or perhaps I dragged you along as a 'toy' for my buddy... the one you were dueling with before the building collapsed. That is, IF you piss me off, or if I catch you lying to me..."<br/><br/>At that moment, he could 'hear' Dean's query. Dean was fine, of course, and asking how much time he had. Donovan visibly rolled his eyes, and then concentrated for a moment to respond to his shadow.<em>~Thirty minutes, perhaps? Come when you can, to the boat. I'll make preparations... I have the warrioress as a hostage, and I made sure to retrieve the pup, as well...~</em>Donovan finished, turning his attention back to Methuseld, focusing on her again. She had the face of an angel, yet in battle, that face had contorted into something truly horrific, made more so by the shocking contrast between the sweet, beautiful look her face held now versus the grim countenance of war she had worn during the battle.<br/><br/>"How long will the Vizier wait to send more after us?" Donovan asked. "Who is the second in charge? What will their next move be? If you're THE general that we've heard so many stories about, you'll know these things. If you cooperate... I'll see to it that you survive this ordeal, and you'll eventually be released," he said. "But you aren't taking us in," he added, then glanced at the fox in the corner for a moment, then back to Methuseld. "None of us."<br/><br/>He had to force his eyes away from her face - she was amazingly attractive, which surprised him even more that he hadn't seen it before. Here, now, with her demeanor much more calm than the berserker-like rage she demonstrated during the fight, she looked more like a woman and less like a crazed killer. Instead, his eyes moved down her body, his hands making sure that various knots and ties were firm and tight. He didn't need her escaping and attracting the watch before Dean could get to the boat. That would -seriously- screw up their escape. Donovan had no real wish to harm Methuseld, but he knew he would if he had to, if she gave him no other choice.<br/><br/>"Your wounds are tended, as well. You're welcome for that, too," he added. He didn't feel completely drained yet, but the evening's festivities had left him tired. He glanced over at the fox again. "How bout you, pup? Hurt anywhere?" he asked, as if the animal would understand what he was asking. His eyes didn't see any obvious wounds on the animal, but she did have a good hunk of fur that could be hiding bruises or other injuries that he wouldn't be able to see with his eyes.<br/>