[ Elda's gaze holds, her eyes dark, alight with malice. But it's also... terror. A fear that grips her heart, coiling around it in such a way that she doesn't know what to do with it. She considers all the ways she can respond, all the ways that she could lash out.
She really, really doesn't have a good response to that. ]
no subject
She really, really doesn't have a good response to that. ]
She wouldn't need to swallow anything.
[ She forces out, still defensive ]