Things are certainly not going to plan. Ora's tongue lolls out, gasping for air and her feet kick under her trying to find purchase. Dark skin gets darker, taking on a blue hue with that plant opening wide above her. She begins to panic; to be so close, to have gotten this far and then have it end this way; no!<br/><br/>"Calm... calm... think." she tells herself in her head. A possibility presents itself. She doesn't have time to consider questions of ethics or to weigh her chances. That pink flesh wriggles above her, eager to feast on her body. No time to think, she swings down the loincloth to try and hook a straggler; hoisting the child up and trying to propel her up in to that hungry plant.