Leaning over the bar, Gideon might get a peek at Alina's collar. Between her tunic and long hair, it's mostly obscured, but with the right vantage point someone definitely might see the points of a stag's antlers protruding around her neck, the shape of them following down her clavicle, her skin so thin it appears ripped across points where antler has fused to bone.

Alina doesn't realize quite how much she's holding her breath until Gideon gives her the okay to let go. With that quick exhale, you'd think she was the one lifting weights. She shifts back onto her heels, more relaxed now that Gideon's gotten started, though. It looks like an old practiced habit to Alina, so that keeps her confident enough that the other woman really won't need her help.

"Bad luck?" It's halfway to a joke, but Alina honestly can't think of much else. She wasn't a stranger to being hunted, but she thought her captors might have made some reference to her summoning if that was the reason for it. "The last time I was held captive, I had a good idea why but they're not very forthcoming with information here."