He grunts softly as he sits up and slowly moves his arms, which are stiff, sore, and numb. His left shoulder hurts where she stabbed him, and will hurt even more when it isn't numb anymore. He moves them carefully, looking down at himself. Shirtless and covered in blood.

"You're quick to move from torture to fucking, girl. Careful, you don't want to be accused of being like me."

His hands lay limp on his lap for a while as they wake up. The pins and needles feel worse than being stabbed, almost.

"I'll see how I feel after I examine the fucking brand you gave me."