Panic started to set in. Where there were cracks, Marlow tried to close them. When the silver struck, she put up more blockades. But as the magic weakened her defenses, the vines began to rot. She reached again for Issac, hearing him, but unable to follow. Trying was like going against a violent current and getting carried off, worn down by crushing waves of sound until she eventually tired out and drowned. There were tears in her eyes from the pain, from the helplessness washing over her. And from sheer terror as the voice in her ear slithered in and coiled around her spine. Gave her her options.
Marlow buried her head into the crook of her arm, still gasping for breath. She wandered into something dangerous, something she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to come back from if she stayed. She could leave now, mostly unscathed, and wake up and like that, the nightmare would be over. But for Issac? "I won't leave him," she whispered, shaking her head. "No." She couldn't. Not alone.