All at once, that worry rushes back and floods out of him again; she smiles, grips his hand, and he knows she's going to be OK.

"It's not so bad on my end, either," he answers, locking their hands tight so he can pull her out into the main cavern. "Watch your head."

His grip never slips or falters, and his support never disappears. Even with the moving rock under their feet and the tight passage he's hewn for her to escape through, he keeps her steady, sheltered, his other arm curling around her waist. He leaves the shield propped against the uneven wall as he brings her to solid ground. "Are there any others?"