Rachel trusts at once--doesn't she always?--moving to the table. She takes one of the anklets and then she turns, bracing herself with her butt against the of the table. She unties and slips off a shoe so she can get the anklet on.

Once she's fussed with getting her shoe back on she scrubs the fingertips of her right hand against the leg of her jeans, just in case, let's not get any dirt into this jar. "Thank you, Ki," she says, looking over at their benefactor before carefully distributing the salve between all her fingertips so she can carefully swipe it over closed eyes.