[ Clara's heart is officially slamming in her chest as she watches the wood fall away, and she looks at Caitlyn without question, reaching out and holding on with a firm grip that hopefully won't restrict her too much. ]

We've got this. It's just a step, right? When I was a kid, I used to hop right over a step. Sometimes two.

[ That's supposed to be reassuring, although the hops were usually the other direction and the whole building wasn't in ruins, but her nonsense is better than being afraid. And she'll even try to keep their conversation going. ]

What made your dad so protective, or is he just like that?