She tries to ignore the muffled moans of the victim - the blood rushing to her head helps a little there, but not much. Her hand hovers over the handle of the saw for a moment, before she tentatively curls her fingers around it. She's used them before to dismember both deer and people, but never when they're still breathing, and she's frozen there for a good few seconds as she works herself up to take the plunge.

Stepping forward, she wraps her free hand around the man's wrist, cutting into the base of his thumb before she can change her mind and talk herself out of it. His moans quickly morph into outright screams, mixing grotesquely with the rhythm of the saw cutting through bone, and she feels her stomach churn with the knowledge and guilt that she's capable of causing this sort of pain to another person. But when she cuts through an artery and she's caught in the spray of blood, without even realising it she finds her tongue darting out to catch the coppery taste as it drips down her cheek. And when she steps back, the severed digit falling dully to the ground, the flush in her colouring is certainly more from exhilaration than the guilt she still feels.