1d20+3=21 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2647527/)<br/>((adding description in hopes that it will be more interesting))<br/><br/>The sound of her own breath, struggling for oxygen in the confined space, the press of her contorted form against itself... panic threatens to take hold at the awareness of constriction, at the suffocation confusion.  She can't remember what happened to bring her here... through the haze, she recalls a road, some markers, her sandal-clad feet pressing the pebbles and dirt.<br/><br/>Her muscles are cramped when she realizes what woke her-- a noise, voices perhaps?  Close by.  She flexes her fingers and hands, wriggles her toes, tenses and relaxes her calves, thighs, and arms.  She can't lose control of her breath, the oxygen filtering through-- what, cloth?  Rope?  Webbing?-- is too thin to risk passing out.  Her limbs tingle with circulation loss, but after a few moments she begins to push.<br/><br/>She sees a thread of light-- webbing.  Were there spiders?  Why can she not recall..?  She pushes harder, flexes and eases her arms, finding purchase in each stretch.  A puff of fresher air, a chamber beyond-- darkness, flickering light--<em>oh hell, I'm in a nest</em>.  She has limited moments to escape before she's noticed, where she'd be easy pickings for whatever put her here.<em>Let the pain sharpen your actions, let the desperation consume your body but not your mind. </em>She pushes up and out hard, tearing the cocoon with her hardened, bare hands, and reaches into the folds of her gi for a shuriken to assist with cutting herself free.