The short minutes feel more like hours as Daine stands there, unable to do much of anything. Or nothing of real use, anyhow. She likes to think she's making Kitten a little more comfortable, but easing the pressure on her shoulders a fraction can't be making much difference, when all is said and done.

When Magnus finally arrives, Daine looks over from where she's still helping to support Kitten's head. "We were hoping you might be able to help," she says, her face drawn. "Without the whole top floor coming apart." She has little doubt that Kitten could get herself out if she tried hard enough, but 'hard enough' would probably leave the second story beyond salvaging.