Rational thought was trying its damnedest to filter back into Tanith's world as she grit her teeth through the pain. She could handle this. She could master this. She was master of herself, master of her pain, and she was not going to fall apart in this goddamn place. She looked up at Salvatrix with mistrust in her eyes. It did not appear that the demon was going to retaliate for that bit of demon blood, but by no means did Tanith feel 'safe.'
Cradling her arm to her chest, she forced herself to her side, still not taking her eyes off of Salvatrix. "I'm fine," she managed, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "Can I go?" Normally Tanith would not have asked, she simply would have hauled ass for the nearest exit. She realized there was no point in that here. If Salvatrix decided Tanith was not going to leave, she wouldn't. End of story. It'd be up to Eztli to figure out a way to get her out of here. Slowly, she started to sit up a bit, and hazarded a look at her surroundings. That was when she saw Alistair's... mess.
That moment in time was the hardest of Tanith's life. Not the first time she was bitten, not the first time she was thrown in the pit, not the times she witnessed the sacrifice of children or the nights of fear immediately after she ran away. This moment and needing to fight her instincts to scream and curse and go at Alistair and not stop fighting until one or both of them were dead. She could never feel clean again. Her need to survive had somehow become so much less than her need to destroy him, and she knew that right now, that was the one thing she just couldn't do. Bile rose in her throat, and it was all the willpower she had to keep it down.