I wrestled futilely, then relaxed as a vine wrapped three times around my throat and squeezed. Right," I choked out, and shut my eyes. "I'll wait here, then.
Rachel Caine (2011). “Thin Air”, p.194, Allison & Busby
I wrestled futilely, then relaxed as a vine wrapped three times around my throat and squeezed. Right," I choked out, and shut my eyes. "I'll wait here, then.