There was that momentary stubbornness making itself known with the firm set of her jaw and the stony glare of her gray eyes.  Although her thirst was sated, she was not one to go falling into trust with her captor, particularly a drow.  Common sense told her that resisting would not be the best of choices, not if she intended to survive and retaliate.  Her head lifted, pride made evident even as her lips parted, mouth opening to accept the gag.  An ache began almost immediately in her jaw, and she vowed silently that she would make certain he regretted every pain he caused her.<br/><br/>The idea of being carried further was also quite disheartening.  Now that she was more aware of him and her own state of undress, she did not relish the idea that he would have his hands wherever he wished, sullying her with that tainted, dark skin.