“I think it fell somewhere over there— where the desk used to be— think the plant’s assimilated the wood.”

Having been almost smashed on the flagstones, Stephen’s on the floor now, still hemmed in on all sides by the vegetation but at least he’s upright and standing on his own two feet, which lets him obediently reach up and catch the vines and hold them taut. There’s not a lot of room to navigate, and they’ll still have to bushwhack their way out and to the front of the lecture hall, but they’re extricating themselves. It’s progress.

“You were working with plants before?”