"Checked out?" The words were barely more than a whisper, but fervent in a way Snow White hadn't been in weeks... months, if she really thought about it. Her black eyes were bright with something too fierce to properly be called hope, but about the only thing that could stop her from her important missions of (hopefully simultaneously) avoiding people and finding food, it was a sign of some hope of getting the fuck out of here.

And Sam wasn't so bad, she supposed.