[She does grab hold briefly, and squeezes the arm slightly as if to reassure herself that he is still here - he's fine. She drops her hand back down, not one for much clinging, even if the reassurance of another human presence feels so good.]
The flowers? What happened? Did they trap you somehow?
[Action]
The flowers? What happened? Did they trap you somehow?
[Because she can think of a certain swamp...]