Yelena hits bottom with a jarring thud, impact sparking up along her legs and calves just shy of pain. The sinkhole is perhaps twice the width of her body, enough that it doesn't completely restrict her range of motion, not enough to hint that it's anything more sophisticated than a nasty trap. She might be relieved by this eventually, but right now, with sand raining down on her, obscuring her vision in gritty waves - like ash, like dust - she can't muster that sort of forward thinking. Her hands scrabble at the sides of the hollow, seeking purchase, seeking anything solid, and it disintegrates beneath her touch, adding to the mound of sand already pooling around her feet.

Her head jerks up at the sound of Jaeger's voice, seeking the sound on instinct. "Careful!" she calls, then cuts off, choking and gagging as another torrent of sand nearly smothers her. She manages to get a hand above her to break the stream, and spits out grit, tucking her chin in against her chest and trying very hard to ignore the play of shadows beneath her.

"Careful," she repeats, voice tight with strain that's so far held on the right side of panic. "I think it's still collapsing."