Arms. They wrap about Snow as she falls into the darkness, holding her tight against the possibility that the woman might not even feel it.

Can she sense anything in that darkness of hers? The struggle of her friend as she clings the slight body and begins to pull it out with agonizing slowness. The trembling of the mountain as it groans, still threatening to crush them both. The worried cry of Snow, as the hot tears of relief and fear and dust fall atop the dirtied cheek?

Ruby hopes she can. That's what gives her the strength to pull her friend out, over wooden fragments and through the water. Trying not to think about what else might be in there, or how little time they have left. What might be waiting outside?

"Just a few more steps," she promised, glancing back out and toward the exit.