( She pulls away slowly, determined if unsteady, brushing him off. )

I'll survive. Probably.

( It isn't him she's annoyed with so much as her own weakness. She hates asking for help, but she hates needing it even more. Maybe she shouldn't be standing after all. She's on the ground again almost before she's finished the thought. It's a little less graceful than she might've liked, but at least she isn't waiting to fall over. )

And you didn't listen. I'm sure sealing the gates of Hell, or whatever's down there, is well and good, but that isn't strictly why I did it.

( Curiosity. She'd wanted to see what would happen. )

Redraw the rune in cinnabar. Which I did. Clearly.

( Her words are as light as always, but there's something unusually honest about the way she looks up to meet his eyes. )

Sometimes I forget I'm not still invincible.