[It is a feat, for certain. Beatrix has faced many things. According to her, battles. Undoubtedly, beasts. Additionally, war and conquest. This ball pit is incomparable when placing it side-by-side these other scenarios, and despite that, it has its own annoyance. Its own special little category. She doesn't have an outright easy answer as to how either of them will get out of this little snafu.

...And 'snafu' is putting it mildly.

When Tifa snags her hand, Beatrix feels just a semblance of relief. Or something like it. Whatever that feeling is, it's just a touch lighter than the moments that came before.]

I was thinking of attempting to locate a mechanism to potentially drain this room. It occurred to me that we keep trying to reach the top. It may not be there. It may be in the place we would be less likely to suspect—

[With her other hand, she motions down.]

Potentially dangerous with the weight, yet feasible. As sound as it would be to have one of us go up and one go down, it was easy enough to lose you once. I should think we are stronger when we are unified than divided.

[That is to say, now that she's found Tifa again, it might be nice not to get separated again. Misery loves company and all of that.]