She kept presence of mind enough to not let her body try to heal itself more than it already had. The flask helped, oh, yes it did; she'd be ripped open and dug into. Blood drunk now was vitae absorbed to aid the healing afterward. Thank you, Paloma thought she'd said, but all her mouth did was voicelessly shape the words.

Seeing him so uncertain shook her.

"Wood stake in my heart," she croaked through the red veil smothering her thoughts. "Won't kill me like stories say, I'll-- keeps me dead, like we are during the day. Not asleep, just dead until you take it out of me." Fire in her nostrils and smoke plumes in the fledgling's head. "Please, I want to stop feeling. Jus'-- restrain me when I wake up, in case, in case."