She might have screamed. As embarrassing as it was without anyone there to witness it, Aibhlinn was pretty sure that the sound had been squeezed out of her throat amidst the tumbling and churning of the containment she had found herself in. What was once an annoying chicken-coop closed off to the outside world now became a gerbils’ wheel. And some ass-hole had kicked her down the stairs. Bodily she slammed into the wall or ceiling or perhaps it was the floor, flailing as she tumbled, but curled small on impact. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was grateful that the bed had been bolted down and didn’t collide with her in the mess, but damned her hatred of the cold and burrowing under the blankets. They left her blind now, unable to see when the impact would strike next or even what direction she had originally associated with ‘up’ had been. Maybe that was best? Maybe it would have been further terrifying than it already was?<br/><br/>Another shriek tore from her throat; this time in the form of “Fuck you!” for no other reason than to make herself feel better as she yet again slammed into the wall and felt the jolting shock of it flair throughout her body. The blankets hooked with a leg of the bed, suspending her momentarily with the tangle before the direction shifted and Aibhlinn slid free. There was little she could do, and while she was terrified she felt the fear slipping away, replaced by near-hysterical laughter as she came in contact with a hard surface once again. She was going to be squished like a sardine in a can; or better yet, land in the water and either drown or freeze to death in under three minutes. Aibhlinn couldn’t swim. And she hated sardines.<br/><br/>Yet another shining moment in the life of Professor Aibhlinn Isold Bannon. She should have stayed in Alaska.