[It sure as hell isn't wrong about that. As much as she hates to admit it, as much as she hates to give Tyrann the goddamn satisfaction, losing herself like this is a constant fear— an inevitability, anywhere else, and she's still not convinced that she's safe from it here, that she won't be swallowed up from the inside if she doesn't hold onto her hate, her anger.

It could just as easily been her on the other side of this fight.]

You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!

[The volatile nature of her response, the snap of her voice— it's a little too defensive as she pushes herself forward, slicing through more vines, using brute force to push past the ones that have started to freeze and resist, shattering them even as some further beyond her begin to build towards exploding.

It's not even trying to dodge, to get away from her.

It's not scared of her, either.]

You've got the power to let him go, I fucking know it— do you it, or I'll shove these goddamn vines of yours down your throat and out your own ass!

[She's stalling for time— she can hit harder, she knows, she can cut into him with all her strength, let herself go into a frenzy, but she's afraid of what will happen to the almost-friend underneath if she does. She's drenched in blood now, most of it the creature's, some of it her own, breathing heavy as she lunges forward once more, aiming to sever one of its arms from its body.]