[Thrashing around, while by far the most attractive course of action in this scenario is probably not the wisest. Somehow she reins her nervous energy in to just a twisting of her wrists, as if maybe she could work her hands through the manacles, given enough time. This is what she gets for not going with the rocket fist, sigh.

Otherwise she scowls at the goat(?) man--squints, really, attempting to look for any details on the person, (carrying any weapons? notable items? distinguishing marks?), and figure out how big this room is--how much distance there is between her and them, just in case)]

Who are you? What d'you want with us?