Greta stills when Johnny hisses in pain. Maybe it's just a result of the Balladeer's efforts, but she could swear she actually sees the vines resettle themselves more snugly around their victim. She drops her hands with a huff of frustration. They're getting nowhere, at least like this.

"I'm sorry," she says, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face. "Maybe if we had scissors or something, at least we wouldn't be making things worse."

She turns to the Balladeer, wondering how much she can fairly ask of him. It seems he and Johnny know one another, and it doesn't seem as if they're exactly friends. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to go get something? We could, er," she flounders a moment, arms gesturing vaguely as she tries to come up with a plan that will make everyone happy. "What if you did try to get me out of here? Then we could both bring back things for Johnny if it works, and if it doesn't, you can get something sharp and some water or something, and I'll just try to find my way back to this spot."

That seems reasonable enough. The two of them could carry more than just one of them, and if anyone wouldn't mind leading her out of here by the hand without it being uncomfortable, it's the Balladeer. And either way, she's going to end up back here - she won't just leave Johnny to his own devices.