He nods, all shuddering breath and whites of eyes, as if speaking one word will tilt the balance of his luck and send him hurtling toward the ground. Otherwise, he remains paralyzed. Ciri will feel the tension in his arm as he clings to the roots and rock, all of his muscles locked in place.

"Didn't break my neck," he finally manages. His voice has the thin, strained quality of someone on the verge of throwing up or fainting. Neither of which would improve his predicament very much.