Her lungs did burn and her panic was sharply increasing when she made absolutely no progress. Her struggling is sloppier the longer it persists as the edges of her vision grow fuzzy. Her coordination starts to fail her, her limbs growing heavier with each passing second. So when he tuns her wrist holding the blade, aiming to nick herself, he finds little resistance. She'd hiss if she had the ability as the blade leaves a shallow cut and her hand retracts from his wrist reflexively. Her eyes flutter closed, lids fighting to stay open and the blade falls from her grip, clattering to the floor. Her body goes lax as consciousness leaves her. She would be sporting a nice, hand-shaped bruise around her throat, but she would still be grateful for it.