[when her magic gives, a touch, a rush of water putters through. there's no point in fighting it, as the water pushes them off their feet and along with the current. the most wanda can hope to accomplish is to keep them from ricocheting into hard surfaces, protecting their hands and limbs, keeping them steady when the world pushes on them too hard.
out of the tunnel, at least, towards a more open space in the pit. water still rushes, around them but it's not violently tossing them about.
with some luck, they reach a point that's slightly above water level. up they go, pushed by will alone. wanda grips at his arms. time is limited, but if this is really going to drag them back out into the ocean, she needs him to be able to keep himself afloat. rushing water is always unpredictable.]
no subject
out of the tunnel, at least, towards a more open space in the pit. water still rushes, around them but it's not violently tossing them about.
with some luck, they reach a point that's slightly above water level. up they go, pushed by will alone. wanda grips at his arms. time is limited, but if this is really going to drag them back out into the ocean, she needs him to be able to keep himself afloat. rushing water is always unpredictable.]
Your hands. Let me fix them. Are your legs okay?