Yasha doesn't need to be told twice to get out while the getting's good; instead, as soon as she feels air on her feet, she pushes off the bottom of the acid-filled stomach hard, hurling herself back upwards. Once her feet emerge, she hooks them onto the marten's jaw for leverage, and after another few seconds of wriggling from side to side Yasha falls out in an acid-soaked puddle on the ground. Rising to her feet as quickly as she can, it's not at all obvious that the acid had started to burn her; her fur was still (mostly) in place with a few slimy tufts on the ground, but more than enough was there to cover up the angry red marks on her hide. She looked more comical than anything; with her fur completely soaked and matted down, her big bushy tail looks kind of... ratlike, and she is very visibly unhappy with the world and her slimy place in it. "Thank you<span style="font-style: italic">so much</span>for joining the rest of the class, Marek," she snaps. "The marten's all yours if you want her," she growls, starting to squeegee some of the excess slime off of her with her bare hands, "Gods. I need water. I need lots of water, and then a few towels, and then a few hours alone." Looking around, she says, "I presume everything else took care of itself? Yes? Great."