Pamela was becoming vaguely aware how...flirtatious she was being with Harley. It was always her fallback position; to seduce and use her feminine wiles to get her way, along with her pheromones. That, coupled with the self-experimentation that gave her green skin, caused some instinctive responses to various stimuli.

True, Pamela was frightened that she might be trapped permanently, cut off from the sun and plant-life she loved so much. And yet; she couldn't help but feel a bit aroused at the idea of having been put into bondage -of a kind- and depending on Harley to rescue her. And Harley's determination -however it turned out- was endearing, in a way.

"Yes, Harley...*please* hurry!" Pamela shouted, though it came out as a husky whisper more than anything.

Down below, there were various flasks and chemical substances; most of them poorly labeled or not at all. But there *did* seem to be some bit of luck...a container labeled 'solvent' on it. Seemed convenient, except there didn't seem to be much, if anything, left of it.

But it would have to do.

Up above, Pamela's apprehension at being trapped was starting to bleed into...other feelings. She began running her palms sensually down her thighs, looking forlornly at her glued feet; her dainty, shapely feet and toes that were caught firmly in the grip of this goo...parts both unyielding, yet soft. 'If only...this happened on my terms, and not due to some careless human...!' Pamela thought.

Speaking out loud, Pamela asked, "Harl? Have you found anything, yet? I need you so badly..." She purred, semi-absently.