Sarah wraps her fingers around his wrists, pulling her face away with a flitting smirk. "I'm fine, Peter, really. Let's just focus on getting out of here." She looks up at the corked opening. “If we can." Sighing, she stares at it.
Peter follows her gaze, getting silent, and then a spark of remembrance flashes through his mind. "You can't break the glass from in there." He snaps his fingers, wagging one, and stands in the middle of the jar, looking around.
Sarah looks at him, arching an eyebrow. “What?” She watches him, tilting her head.
Peter goes to the far side of the jar, running at full speed, and slams into the glass closest to the table edge. He does it over and over. With every slam, the jar moves a bit towards the edge.
Sarah looks at him, arching an eyebrow again, and does he
