Her eyes burned like ice flame, pale face somehow managing to darken further with anger that boiled within her like a lidded pot upon the cookfire, watching her compatriot not merely dragged from the shop, but forced out upon hands and knees like a dog under the guidance of its master. That look of cold fire shot up to the black-clad man riding the motionless eagle, full of dire promise.<br/><br/>Then one of the others their leader had been speaking to - obviously giving orders, though she hadn't understood a word of it, nor cared to - stepped close and dared to grab her upper arm, hauling her upright. Only a few inches shy of 6 feet, she was taller than any of the women she fought alongside, and was able to look him right in the eye for a long, tense moment before she moved.<br/><br/>Her wrists were chained close together, ankles as well, and she took a few short steps on the end of the chain before throwing herself forward against his back - to someone else, likely it would look as if her usual long stride, cut short by the bindings, had made her overbalance, but the movement was calculatedly deliberate. Bide their time until the ship, the other girl said - but Atnorsa would go to the Great Mother's embrace before she would make one moment of this easy for these ravening butchers.