Her hand twitched a little after his finger brushed across it, as if itching to grab at him, or to perhaps wipe the feel of his touch from her skin. But he drew away the finger before she could do either, and she was left standing before him, trying to pick the proper words out of his accented speech. "We have differing ideas of good; I'll not lay down for you."<br/><br/>Atnorsa spoke flatly, turning to face him fully, and took a short step back from him, as far as the reach of the chains between her ankles would allow. She still held up her chained hands, and somehow rather than looking like a retreat, the movement had the appearance of a deliberate, tactical shift, the woman fully prepared to grapple with him if he tried to actually force her to the floor.