Eyes fogged with white, but still awake to the world around her, Honora would grap the clumsily advancing Quinton with the ease that Hiram’s training had afforded her and knee him in the stomach. If successful, she’d drag him toward the carriage and thrust him inside as if he were luggage and not a man. Should anyone try to stop her, she'd seize upon them as well...not with her hands, but with the gift that now indiscriminately lashed out, satisfied to wreck the psyche of anyone that got too close.

Quinton’s attempts to hurt Honora were clumsy and unspecific, more like desperate grabs at her clothing. Trained as she was, she easily maneuvered through them to deliver a very unforgiving knee to his stomach, causing him to double over instinctively. Her efforts to get him into the carriage, however, were less successful, as her body was slender and petite, even more so after recent abuse, and it took more than combat to move a grown man. She would pull, struggling, quickly tiring, and Quinton’s locked knees did her no favors.

Scout remained hidden.

[ Post order: Quinton then Honor; Scout anytime or not at all]

Honora shrieked, not in pain but in anger. Anger at her frail form, at the power of her gift but the weakness of her body—the body that had so recently been subject to such horror now once again turning against her. In her anger, she’d (attempt to) strike him hard across the face, nails dragging across his face. It was then that she’d seize his face, and with all the force of her gift thrust into him a desire. A need as powerful as thirst in death by dehydration, or starvation in hunger. It would be as illogical as it was powerful, tangled up with remorse at what he had done, sitting side-by-side with the pleasure he’d felt at her assault.

Honora could sense the presence of those who were starting to notice the scene. She could sense Scout, though she was just a presence without an attached identity.

Find me.

You need me.

To save you.

To fix you.

And with that thought, smacking into Quinton’s mind like an icepick to the temple, Honora would kick him over onto the ground. It would be then that she’d (attempt to) climb into the carriage and compel the driver to flee.