Lapis is looking a little pale on her end -- not from the threat, not from the exertion, but from the scream. The echo of it is still rippling through her, shivering through her frame.

She'd still hold on even so, but . . . for the moment he's slumped, and for the moment the others are taking charge. She doesn't completely trust it -- she never can -- but releases him, eyes still wary, watching.

Her hands come up to brace at her elbows, her shoulders tightening upward.