Gotta Go Fast [Margit, Gwen]

Margit wasn't usually one for crowds, but when trouble was happening she usually managed to find herself in one. Someone and his wife had her pressed uncomfortably close to the railing of the bridge, and as they murmured between themselves Margit managed to see there wasn't really a panic as much as a mess up ahead. No one looked hurt or frantic, people were already helping out, and that was really all there was to it. With a small sigh—glad to regain her personal space—Margit began to leave as her ear turned to buddings of protest from behind her.

A man stammered, barked, yelled, and Margit caught sight of bright blonde hair before her eyes went wide.

She bent over the railing instantly, the girl disappearing in a roiling splash below only a moment later. A second passed and she didn't surface. The woman by her screamed, only making Margit glare as she hoisted herself onto the railing and jumped before there was time to doubt. It wasn't a death sentence from here. She could do it.

Muted rumbling filled Margit's ears as she plunged below the water, palms stinging from the impact and boots heavy. She began kicking them off hastily as she breached, feet fumbling as she looked around and realized how stupid she'd just been. Weighed down, no way to get out, no plan in her head... For a tense moment Margit really saw nothing above the water's surface, the yelling from the bridge becoming muted and distant just before the girl finally came up for air again. She sputtered, hair slicked to her face, and Margit began to swim.

"Hey!" She hollered, voice still strong, "Are you alright?!"

The girl choked on a mix of river water and a yell, hand thrashing in the water as she fell back below the surface. Margit pursed her lips tight, looking around hastily as her muscles worked harder with the current. The stone walls beside the river were tall and slick and cold, offering no real options for leaving. Margit thought of several appropriate Valski swears, bobbing higher in the water as she took a deep breath and dove.

Everything was muffled again, Margit squinting through the murky river to catch flickering brown and green and yellow light. Miras had nothing like the glass-clear water up north...

Fortunately they weren't too deep; the girl's body still bobbed in the light, moving sluggishly as she tried to claw her way back to the surface; Margit dove for her and grabbed at the thick knit sweater she wore, legs kicking hard as the Valski tried to drag both of them back to air. It was harder than she thought it would be. Tugged down by her own weight—cloth and hair and muscle—Margit saw the flickering light of the sun from underwater. She clawed again, feeling the pressure build in her chest. Her hand was out but her head was not...A moment later, after several harder kicks she finally managed to surface and choke her own inhale, half of it stifled by water. A mass started to pass in the corner of her eye and Margit reached out on instinct, hands breaking off bits and slipping on, and at last catching with bearlike firmness a thick, sturdy tree root that had broken through the stone.

Margit coughed and suck in a deeper breath, straining against the current. Her arm was already tense and sore, and the water's pull was relentless. Yelling through grit teeth she heaved, Slipping her upper body over the tangle of roots and pulling the girl halfway with her. There was nowhere else to go, but for a moment at least they could breathe.

Margit coughed again, sputtering water and shaking her head and running her free hand over her eyes so she could see. The other still held the collar of the knit sweater.

"Kff—!! Can you breathe?" She asked, head turning quickly to look at her company. The girl was soaked to the bone.

She gave a thumbs-up.

Margit coughed again in the middle of a sigh, feeling a modicum of relief as she slumped a little further against the roots. Good, she could breathe. Breathing was the most important right now. The clamour of city people grew above them and Margit looked up feeling a sudden, intense wave of déjà vu. Where had this happened before? Unfortunately the situation moved forward before she could recall, a few heads and worried faces peeking over the steep drop from the city to the river.

"Are you okay?!" someone called, sturdy vines snaking out of somewhere Margit couldn't see.

"We're breathing!" Margit hollered back before looking at the drenched light elf. She hesitated, frowning as she glanced over the girl. Margit herself wasn't hurt, but... "Can you move?" she asked next as the vines dipped into the water, "Can you grab them alright?" Even sopping wet, the girl looked light enough for Margit to sling over her shoulders if it came to that.

Margit looked back up to the faces above them, frowning slightly as she thought of being lifted by magical plants of all things. It was unsettling, dealing with things not really made by human hands... However those thoughts were jolted from her with a startled twitch as the blonde girl gave a hefty, proud yell beside her. Margit's attention shot to her with wide eyes, blinking quickly as a vine was thrust at her in front of a wide beaming smile. Hair was still slicked to her face, but she seemed... Well if nothing else, "energetic" was one word for it?

Margit hesitated a moment, looking from the girl to the vine before she grabbed it herself. "Uh—Ssssssure," she managed, frowning quizzically at the bizarrely happy bridge jumper before the vines started to crawl upwards again. With another start, Margit clung to the magical thing with a renewed uneasiness as she looked up again. What kind of a week started like this?