[He isn't to know, he isn't to comprehend in that moment what runs through her at the idea of experiments. A life time of being locked away and cut apart, lonely and being destroyed from the inside out.

But what is apparent is the tone that grows in her voice, far deeper, far stronger, half growl. Comes out hot and fast and not meant to be so furious but her rage is a terrible, terrible thing, these days. It pours into the words, at odds with her little frame and otherwise helpful everything she tries to be. ] No. I won't be experimented on again.

[ And she hastily clears her throat, trying to clear it down. Turning her face away briefly, ] we can discuss it first and then find ways with that. But I'll need to do it the right way, it's a... sensitive subject for me. But I think we can rule out immune suppression. It's a hunger we were cursed with that was triggered by a rolling fog. Where ever it comes from, it isn't just about appetite. I quite literally waste away without raw, fresh killed meat, else I go steadily more insane. Nothing makes it stop but sating it once it reaches that point.