Greta's brow furrows a little as she begins to belatedly suspect that Johnny has hardly any control over the dream. The darkness could have been taken as mere simplicity - maybe it's easier to control a little circle of light with nothing beyond it - but that's not what this is. There's something out there, she hears it as clearly as he does. Something that Johnny didn't invite or create. They are not safe here.
"Johnny…" she murmurs uncertainly when he moves away from her. What is he trying to do? Protect her? The light he carries must be a beacon to whatever is out there, and there he goes, as if to make sure it's only him illuminated. It's a selfless gesture, and considering how uncomfortable she made him earlier, she really can't help but be touched by it. What a brave young man he is.
He turns back toward her, and she starts to step forward, and then everything goes terribly wrong. Johnny is seized from behind - she can hardly see the person behind him, only a glint of white teeth and a curly hair - and his candle falls to the ground, and even in the dim, guttering light she can see that he's being choked. He struggles uselessly, arms flailing wildly, and she can't less this happen, she can't, she won't.
Greta's not sure how she ends up behind the struggling pair, her hands tearing at the scarf around her neck - the only thing she has - and then twisting it around into something thin and strong. She barely knows what she's doing, she can't think over the sound of Johnny's muffled screaming, all she knows is that she can't let this happen. It's as if her arms don't even belong to her as they toss the length of scarf over the attacker's head until it catches beneath his chin and then pull, hauling him back with all their strength.
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"Johnny…" she murmurs uncertainly when he moves away from her. What is he trying to do? Protect her? The light he carries must be a beacon to whatever is out there, and there he goes, as if to make sure it's only him illuminated. It's a selfless gesture, and considering how uncomfortable she made him earlier, she really can't help but be touched by it. What a brave young man he is.
He turns back toward her, and she starts to step forward, and then everything goes terribly wrong. Johnny is seized from behind - she can hardly see the person behind him, only a glint of white teeth and a curly hair - and his candle falls to the ground, and even in the dim, guttering light she can see that he's being choked. He struggles uselessly, arms flailing wildly, and she can't less this happen, she can't, she won't.
Greta's not sure how she ends up behind the struggling pair, her hands tearing at the scarf around her neck - the only thing she has - and then twisting it around into something thin and strong. She barely knows what she's doing, she can't think over the sound of Johnny's muffled screaming, all she knows is that she can't let this happen. It's as if her arms don't even belong to her as they toss the length of scarf over the attacker's head until it catches beneath his chin and then pull, hauling him back with all their strength.