you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, the woman's fingers stroking the lid of the burn salve. Yet, when Will woke, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the weak sunlight filtering through dust stained windows to illuminate the destruction of her flat. Vhalla wasn't exactly looking forward to cleaning it up. Still, it wasn't her main focus, her blue gaze lingering on the deep gouge on her wooden floor. Her attention is drawn away by Will's groaning figure as she tilts her head back to him. She doesn't say anything, nor does she move from her seated position as she watches him struggle to a seated position, his gaze focusing on her after he blinks the light from them. Her cracked name on his lips doesn't phase the woman as she remains where she is, her face entirely void of emotion. It was immediately clear that the Will she had known was the one to wake and sat before her, panting with exertion. Yet, Vhalla hardly had any urge to immediately release him from his restraints, a touch of wariness fluttering through her.

His questioning tone and the use of a pet name has a crease forming between her brows. It was clear... she was going to have to handle this without fire and rage and just be bluntly honest. Something she didn't care for and yet, she didn't really have a choice and she didn't really want Will to go gallivanting off with his madness again. She doesn't respond for a long time and when she does, the assassin is dragging a hand down her face, wincing very slightly at the dull pain throbbing throughout her body, "Artificial wounds, nothing that needs to be worried about," she says tiredly, allowing her good hand to dangle at her side and her right one laying gingerly across her abdomen. Vhalla entirely ignores Will's first question, not because she was avoiding it but merely because... she wasn't exactly sure how to explain the situation. It was a sensitive topic and she hardly wanted to bring up the reason why he fell into that craze in the first place.

"Look at me," she says suddenly, her tired blue eyes searching his face when he does. No hint of madness remains in his gaze, all she finds is... defeat? Maybe? It was hard to tell and she hardly wanted to wrack her brain for those tedious emotions. Sighing, she doesn't move from her perch but keeps an eye on him. For all she knew... he was a great actor and would be sending another dagger straight for her heart. "Can you feel your hands?" She asks after another pause. Sure, she had zip tied him tight enough so he couldn't escape and to not cut off blood circulation but he had been laying on his side for awhile and a position like that could make for some uncomfortableness. "I'm going to give you two options," she says slowly, her features blank though her voice is heavy with exhaustion, "We can chat while you're still restrained or I can release you, get your wounds taken care of and then we can chat," she pauses briefly, "I gave you some pretty nasty burns," she admits, feeling a twinge of guilt course through her.

"When I do release you though... so help me Will if you decide to come after me again I'll knock your ass out and leave you on the street next time," her voice hardens ever so slightly, "And I won't bother calling anyone to pick you up either," she tacks on and though her body looked relaxed, she was tense all over. Vhalla wasn't sure she could go another round with Will without seriously harming him. Between the broken wrist and the slice in her side, she wouldn't be able to use much basic defense and would be relying wholly on her affinities to keep him at bay. She shifts slightly in the chair, flinching as the wound in her side partially rips, blood rapidly staining her light tee shirt. Making an annoyed sound, she reaches a scarred hand across the table to grab a pad of gauze, her expert fingers lifting the shirt just enough to briefly show the mostly cauterized wound now, before squeezing the pad into place.

She stiffens at the pain but doesn't make a sound before she rolls her shirt back down to cover the gauze.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered