Buying herself a moment to consider that, Jyn takes Lincoln's hand to get to her feet, setting Sprinkles back down on the ground as she does. She feels tired, weaker than she would like, having to remind herself at the realization of it that she hasn't eaten and probably hasn't really slept in over a day. That used to be commonplace for her, but somewhere down the line, she stopped being used to living like that. She's gone soft, Saw would say. Part of her thinks that his feelings on any subject shouldn't matter. Part of her thinks he would be right. All those walls and sharp edges that she constructed to protect herself got worn down and blunted, and she should have known better. If she had, she wouldn't feel like she does now.

The fact of that makes her reluctant to accept help. The sooner she gets away from here, though, the better, so she nods. "Yeah," she says. "Hope you don't mind if I bring her with me." Of the animals that have come to live with them — with her, now — Sprinkles is the one to whom she's most attached. The others, she can rehome, but not that little dog. "I'll pack my bag while you do that."