She is gripping at the rocks with frozen fingers. She doesn’t know what to do, how to help them. She loves them but she doesn’t think she ought to die here because of that love. Once, not so long ago when she was a child, she might have thought that the noble thing to do. Now she feels very far from a child, and if nearly being murdered has taught her anything it’s that she wants to live long enough to get off this island. The salt of it lives in her veins; it is such a part of her that it is slowly killing her.
