By some miracle - one which Gideon herself would be unable to explain and is, in fact, not really thinking about right now - she actually does shhh. She stays silent and intensely aware of Lanore's presence beside her until the guards finally fuck off, extends her stillness into Lenore’s unlocking the cuffs. Rolling her tender wrists one at a time, it takes her a second to realise just how close the vampire's hands are to her throat and-- oh.

Gideon hikes one brow hard toward her hairline, surprised and incredulous in equal measure. She'd said cuffs or collar some indeterminate amount of time before, there'd been no mention of both. Brave of her, or stupid, or perhaps just infuriatingly self-assured--

--yet Gideon makes no move toward her, doesn't lurch forward and grasp her captor by the throat. Instead, she shifts her neck from one side to the other, slow and deliberate, feeling into the full of extent of the pain. She feels blessedly light suddenly, hadn’t quite realised just how much of a deadweight that thing had been.

"What's this, we're playing picnics now?" the sullen, incredulous tone remains, even as she moves to sit at the blanket's furthest edge and extends a hand for the tray, "have you forgotten about the tit-ripping already?"