Watching the crowd begin to roar around her, before she had even gotten close enough to shout her personal protests, Isolde suddenly felt less alone. Her fists un-clenched and before she could back away again, she began being jostled by the angry crowd. Her voice was no longer needed and the anger, instead of escalating, deescalated as though it had been absorbed by the crowd. 

Isolde looked up, as many others in the crowd did as well, at the man who was on the side of the building. She watched. There was not much else she could do. Then, the rain began to downpour. The crowd grew more restless around her with people either continuing their protest or rushing too get out of the rain. Isolde, being smaller than most other people, was easily pushed with the flow of the crowd. As she tried to get to the edges, she found herself tripping over others pushing their way through. Before she could reach the edge, she was pushed to the ground.