No words, for a while. Jean catches their breath, and thinks hard. There's another presence here with them, a phantasmal Wolf that sniffs at the viera's ears and growls a low rumble. "We're not killing her," Jean mutters aloud. Their weight shifts up, just off of Ryja; they take her shoulder and roll her over, gripping with the pads of their fingers so the claws don't dig in.

That sharp point on Ryja's throat traces an indent as she's rolled onto her back with more strength than this tiny body should have. Jean straddles her again, knees on her arms to pin them, weight resting just under her breasts.

Masked, interesting. Dressed like she just came off the ferry...

"Why did you attack me?" Jean asks plainly, withdrawing their hands to unshackle the claws from their wrists.