Redhawk Caldera I'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry

did she want to follow the man? not especially. he was rot and death and fear incarnate, and she was the kind of thing he would simply crush underfoot. tongue passes over her lips again, quick and nervous, though what slips from her maw is a "thank you." 

and just as quickly as he'd stepped into her fragile life was she in his debt. oh, she could flee, or refuse, or do any matter of things. and yet there came only acceptance, the possibilities of anything else other than, "I will," quick and fleeting and just as quickly gone from her thoughts.