Alyosha leaned towards the Brucolac, pressing her side to his, drawn tense and taut as a bowstring. Her living hand was trembling finely at her side, though her voice had grown steadier by the time she spoke again.

The drabwurld was full of strange things; both looked surprised, but not for long, and neither horrified. "I'll spare no expense, compensate you well for whatever pain-- to give them what blood you can spare. I'll see that it comes from others, after tonight, make the appropriate arrangements." In the back of her mind she thought of physiological efficiency, stressors, hormones. Refocused on her children, her scarred face creased into an expression of anxious longing.

"Were you with them long?" She asked him, not able to look away even as both women moved to sit, free hands quick with their laces. She shook herself a little at last, nothing I can do, I hate that it is so far out of my hands, hate this powerlessness, turned to look up at the Brucolac, brow creased again. "Ys...? How..?" is she?