Pulling back, she nods, reaching into the makeshift pocket she made from her shirt. She winces when her burned hands brush against something too roughly, but what she pulls out is the equivalent of rope - one of Flan's long, long braids that had been severed and wound together.

"If you can find anything to pierce with, even better. I know we'll be facing that eye again - that's why she had to silence him, because it's his domain. But the eye is key. If something happens, either go for her eyes...or stop me, if I cannot see the way."

The last whispered only to him. If that outer madness sinks in, there's no telling what she'll do.