You rap your fingers against the metal bars with a tinge of disappointment. You'd expect having a damn *werewolf* in your custody to liven things up a bit, but alas. Smelling of wet dog and mud is probably the most entertaining thing she's done so far. Her expression is blank. Frustratingly unreadable. "..." As expected, no response. The disheveled figure's been huddling in the corner ever since she was dragged in last night, refusing to so much as acknowledge your presence. Chains hang heavy ...