She flailed as the black much closed over her head, fighting her way back to the surface and gasping in a desperate lungful of air, kicking at the thick tendrils around her legs, dragging her back down. Don't give up, don't give in, fight it fight it fight it, she chanted to herself. Kicking and clawing, she struggled back up again, searching for a glimpse of the light overhead. Every feeble support around her, she clung to, entwining her hands to keep from being sucked completely under. Thick, sticky, noisome ooze covered every inch of her body, but she held onto her supports with grim determination and a white-knuckled grip. Thin as threads in her hands, ethereal, as though they'd fade away any second, but she held on, with a fierce determination not to drown in the foul scum.