[The pain is like a bright beacon in her awareness, a constant throbbing reminder of the humanity that has been thrust upon her against her will. North grinds her teeth hard enough that her jaw begins to ache. Just another annoyance. Everything bothers her: aching hunger, discomfort when she feels too cold or too hot, plague of fatigue, thirst, all the rest. At least she can focus on the palm of her hand and ignore everything else.
North's chin jerks up at the approach, glaring daggers.]
I didn't ask for that. [She flexes her fingers, inspiring another sting of pain with a grimace.] Are you feeling sorry for me?
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North's chin jerks up at the approach, glaring daggers.]
I didn't ask for that. [She flexes her fingers, inspiring another sting of pain with a grimace.] Are you feeling sorry for me?