It was an easy thing to take for granted, how heavy your own head could be. The muscles in her neck were unreliable now, quivering, exhausted after the agonizing period of time she'd been left here alone. But to give them any semblance of rest invited the burning against her scalp, that devilish rope seizing her hair back like the reins of an ill-tempered stallion. The comparison was no longer apt however; her fight was long gone. The cruelty of the ropes that bound her at nearly every joint broke her equal parts physically and in spirit. Occasionally she'd twitch her discoloring fingers, trying to delay the chill that would inevitably give way to numbness. She was capable of a few muted grunts on occasion, though anything more than steady breathing added further strain to muscles in her back that clenched tighter than the ropes that forced them that way. The rags that were crammed into her mouth were softened clumps soaked through with her saliva. Anything excess built up against the front of her gag in the form of a slowly widening splotch that delicately framed the impression of her spread lips from below. For now she'd bide her fleeting energy for the moment they would return to her, and exert it in a series of miserable stifled pleas and begs for her release from this hellish restraint.
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