That whimper catches Rezo’s attention and he pauses. He presses his free hand to her back in a clumsy imitation of Lioriley’s own tendency to comfort through light touches.

“I’m-” No, he is not going to apologize again, gods damn it.

“I’m afraid you are likely correct,” Rezo settles on, and dryly adds: “You doubtless have a better view of the situation than I do.”

(Actually what she probably mostly has a good view of is his neck and shoulder.)

“Still, I don’t think we should give up just yet. Can you see a direction I can aim for without stepping into more of these vines?”