[The bloody fight between someone and the undead is going to stay with her now. She's facing it when it happens, witnesses it in front row, a gruesome spectacle. Worse than the battle, and also not; back there - what, days ago from her perspective? - it had been friends falling victims to killing curses, and she had been surrounded by allies, and she had known the world and where she stood in it and how to fight in it.

And here, she doesn't even know for a fact if the wand - if her magic - will work.

There is no such place as Taravast on Earth, so wherever she is... If she wants to get back, she has to head East. Not die here.

She looks towards the barrier man again, and gives him a very brief nod.]

I cannot ask you to come with me. [A dying groan from the undead a little way away in the hallway.] And - alright, I don't actually want to die. It's just - it's just a stick! [A little hysterical laugh here, then she gives the stranger a serious, solemn look.]

If you see a fallen witch holding one, tell me.

[That said, however, she's ready to keep running.]