Witch's Marsh i just want to feel alright

she makes no moves towards freeing herself, and similarly, he remains still by the side of the muddy divet, unmoved by her predicament. unmoved as she appears to be too, something he does not have an opinion on--at least one that he expresses--even as his colorless gaze lingers on her shape.

at length he says, "you are stuck," his observation parroting her, "you seem contented by that." she will find no assistance from bartleby, should that be something she wants; his gaze drops away from her to the muggy line of the trees surrounding them, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.