Khalida frowns as she wakes, and she stands and brushes herself off like nothing happened. “Thank you,” she smiles faintly at Del and she walks off to nowhere in particular. She sighs, glancing at the wall over her shoulder. “Damn it.”
Sorcha huffs. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” She slams her fist on the table, knife in hand. “But no! I’m fairly certain they’re trying to get a reaction out of me, and it’s tiring having to always be on guard. Ugh, I’m so sick and tired of people.” She slumps forward a little, then she straightens, mentally cussing herself out for showing so much weakness.