She doesn't remember the exact moment when her feet were no longer on the ground. She can't pinpoint when, precisely, he began to carry her. All she remembers is that, when her tired and abused legs had given out from underneath her, she didn't hit the warm desert sand.

She recalls how it felt to be touched kindly for the first time in months- almost foreign. There was something familiar about his touch, however, and it brought comfort unrivaled. She heard his heart beating in his chest right underneath where her beaten head laid, and it's steady rhythm soon became her anchor.

She recollects how, at some point, everything started to fade away. The gunshots and shouts and dry, desert air fell away as the adrenaline of escape wore off, leaving nothing but pure exhaustion. It didn't take his gently whispered words- you can relax, you're safe now- for her to begin to slip from reality. It was then that she finally gave in to the months of torture, of pain, of sadness, and let her guard down for the first time since May.

She recaptures how she felt when a tear rolled down her cheek as she let her walls come crashing down in the safe haven of his arms. Her body, mind, and spirit were leagues beyond fatigued. Weariness encompassed her entire being She was so tired of fighting.

So, she reminisces, when she finally collapsed, it was okay.

He would look after her bared and weary soul.