Pearl's muscles offer no protest as the woman lifts her up -- couldn't if she willed them to, and for some reason the realization is funny enough to make her laugh. A clipped, odd sound, nasal and abnormally high.

God, she's a mess. If Amethyst saw her now, she'd never hear the end of it. If Rose saw... no, don't think of that. Pearl clenches her jaw and shuts her eyes.

The stranger's hold is steady around her, and with Pearl's heightened senses honed further by desperation, she finds herself hyper-aware of every little detail: the coiled web of muscles in her arms, the thrum of blood through her pulse points, the warmth of her flesh and her heartbeat, so tantalizingly close to her ear.

Amidst her starved, frenzied haze, the strangest thought floats up to her mind--

This is nice.

A safe, warm feeling. She hasn't been picked up like this since she was a child. But that's a whole lifetime ago now, isn't it?

A prickling pressure forms behind her eyes, and Pearl sniffs against it, her closed eyelids twitching.