She snickers, imagining CT as a tulle tumbleweed on its slow descent down the mountain, and feels just a little guilty. Right, not funny. A broken arm or leg isn't the kind of finale she's looking for tonight. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. C'mon—"

Ripley pushes off against her knees and rises from the ground like a scrawny beanstalk. "We'll set up a camp. Maybe it'll be fun." A wry smile on fire-lit face. She extends a hand. "Unless you're going to make me do all the work."