[It's very good advice. Sadly, when the fear and the reflections and rabid-eyed stare of her past drives her helter-skelter through the maze, and she finally tumbles down a way out, she is moving pretty frenziedly. Her dress - now a muddled color between the walls and the water, with mild curving abstract patterns like the light on surface ripples - could stop shrapnel and ray guns, or withstand a few dozen tons of pressure, but it is still a dress. She feels the first bite, little razors against her shin, and makes a concerted, vicious effort to skewer every one of them on her heels which only attracts more. In the double handful of seconds it takes her to admit defeat and leap gymnastically up to cling to someone's door frame, one knee resting a share of her weight on a hopefully-sturdy doorknob, she's lost little chunks of her calves. Blood drips below her into the water, ensuring the piranhas continue an agitated milling beneath her. She hisses in fear and frustration.]
spam, late day two or early day 3ish maybe idk what is time