Jostled awake by his quick pace, Kahlil squirmed instantly, remembering the taste of the spell in the air, feeling the throb of pain at the back of her skull.  Carried as she was, and with spots still dancing before her eyes, she could not quite make out who had accosted her.  Her inability to speak a spell into being had already been established, and the saliva that had worked its way out of her mouth had wet her lips and chin.  Quick movements of her hands and fingers indicated that this rascal had indeed thought of most everything.  He was taking into assumption that she couldn't simply think her spells into existence, but in truth that was a pretty certain gamble for him.  Most of the mages who had that much power and control were very, very well-known, and there were not many of them to begin with.<br/><br/>Her long hair was still loose, tangled and dragging the ground at times.  Nausea curdled in her belly, threatening to make itself quite evident in her throat, but she fought it down, knowing that in all likelihood she would choke to death with the ball gag so firmly in place.  So that stopped her squirming, at least for the moment, and her nostrils flared as she took in as much air as she could stand, wanting to clear her head and be able to regain control of her situation as much as possible.