Jaeger is tempted to say that "it isn't so bad". But it's starting to creep into his perception, the closeness of it, the uncomfortable moist warmth of the air and the sticky black blood and the thin, endless squalling and bleating of the lambs.

It's not as bad as Donna seems to think, but maybe it's not the best situation, either. He lets her cling to him, even though the terror still isn't gone. That maybe she can feel the scars under his shirt sleeves, maybe she knows they're there. He moves like a sleepwalker, letting himself be led away from the ruin of his treasure, quiet and hollow with shock and shame.

But he's moving toward the way out, and that's something, at least.