Here. [Sabriel holds out a gas mask, working to keep her hands steady and her shoulders squared.

Charter magic may be benign, but using it over and over is draining. Sabriel's not sure if she's seen this man before- perhaps at another swear-in? But she tries to stay comforting.]

Keep your grip. The last thing we need is anyone else losing it.

[She tries to ignore the screams all around her, the sobbing, the death. She needs to stay focused.]

My name is Sabriel. Do you think you'll be able to get out of here on your own?