The loss of her Sire again, if only a figment of some dreaming dead, was almost as painful as the searing pain in her chest. The Gangrel comes to wakefulness with a blood-curdling shriek and violent convulsions, held in check by Anna's handcuffs.

Realizing, perhaps belatedly, that her movements are restricted, Aisling's eyes - a hairs breadth from frenzied - shoot up to see her friends looming over her.

"Let me out!" She whines, giving the cuffs another erratic jerk. "Let me out!" Trying to block the burning pain that seems to accompany the returned flow of vitae through her dead limbs, Aisling shakes her head wildly. Tears of blood begin to pool in the corners of her eyes, leaving rich crimson streaks against her cheeks as they fall.

"I...I will control myself...." Aisling growled out. "I...promise...."