When the Walker pulls out the set of rakes, Malia finds herself unconsciously trying to break the manacles on her wrists.  She knows from a LOT of experience with being chained up that she can't break out of the set on her wrists no matter how much she fiddles.  Why she thinks tugging on them and breaking them will work better is a question she hasn't quite allowed herself to answer yet, though it's probably, again, the adrenaline.   It was bad enough the bo-er... girl was stripped bare in front of the crowd but seeing them chant for more blood was making the rogue start to seriously question how much of this she's willing to take before she starts doing something drastic.  Her stomach and sense of bravado definitely can't take another grisly display like that and her mind races to come up with ideas of how to both stop the torture and at the same time maybe also not die... right up until the point the mask gets a scroll and inexplicably calls the display off.  Malia is dumbfounded for a moment.<br/><br/><em>Well now that's certainly a surprise.  If I were her, I'd grab whatever scraps of clothing I could and run.</em>She thinks to herself, distracted from her panic just long enough to glance back up at the howling crowd, having noticed an elf seemingly develop a conscience after the first evisceration.  It's a nice change from the mindless chanting and the wolf-like stares at least, though it does little to improve Malia's mood, especially when she and Mina are fingered and the guards drag the pair of them towards the Walker.<br/><br/>Malia hits the wooden platform hard when the guards toss the two of them to the man's feet.   Her eyes widen for a moment and she lets out a rather loud and pained groan, briefly overwhelmed by the heat. the stench of ripe blood and her rapidly accumulating bruises from the day.   It has, indeed, been a long day, so she forgives herself for this momentary lapse of dignity and lifts her face, now streaked with upsettingly fresh blood, from the ground and gets herself to her knees just in time for her chin to be cradled by the executioner.  A shudder if disgust goes through her body from the man's bony fingers and Malia stares hard into the hollow eyes of the skull.  If the embers from the brazier weren't already causing fire to shimmer in her eyes, her searing hatred alone just might have, given the nature of the speech.   It's everything she hates.   The sneering arrogance, the self-righteous attitude, the peddling of bullshit as truth...  It's almost too much to take and much, much too similar to all the crap she's put up with from the baron and his lovely wife.   Her jaw starts to ache from snarling as hard as she can at the man, though as she does she slowly lifts herself to her feet.    Feeling her life's clock rapidly approaching its final few seconds, she lets the Walker's diatribe wash over her accompanied by a wave of despair and resignation.<br/><br/><em>Well Malia, so far you haven't come up with a single smart plan.   Only thing left is the dumb one.   Knock something over.  Cause chaos.  Use it to run.   Almost <strong>guaranteed </strong>to fail but- screw it.  Going out fighting's ten times better than whatever the literal hell he has planned.</em><br/><br/>Somewhat lost in thought, it takes her a few seconds to realize the Walker is actually waiting for her response.   She turns her gaze to Mina for a moment, giving her a few seconds to either babble or give her own answer before she turns her head back towards the Walker.<strong> "First question: Her."</strong>She says with a curt nod towards Mina, a somewhat frightening grin passing over her face as she stares past the man at the various torture implements.<strong>"Second question: You."</strong>She says, ducking her head suddenly and kicking off her back foot, launching her naked, blood-stained body towards the man's chest.