[ She smiles wryly. Neither is she -- or at least, she would hardly describe herself as such -- but she tries. ]

I suppose all we can do is try ...

[ She turns back to the vines. There's an awkward moment where she hesitates, deciding what's best to do here, before she reaches out to stroke the vine carefully.]

Are you listening? ... No harm will come to you if you simply move just a little. If ... if you can. Is there something stopping you?