Jo isn't sure what to make of Geralt giving her a once over, like it matters, like it's the first next important thing for him, before they put their throats back on the chopping block of whatever the hell this all is. Her expression is hard to read, for it; an off-balance balance with more uncertainty than sharp edges.

At his words, Jo looks right behind her. The way back through, the spikes look smaller from this side, like somehow it should be impossible to fit through just how many are networked in every space almost in those last five-ten feet. Jo turns back toward him, looking off into the far dark.

"No." Jo agrees grimly. "It only cares about fucking with us."

Beat. "Deeper into the dark, it is."

It doesn't care, but currently, there's only one direction in this pathway. There's an errant, here and then gone thought, wondering what the other two of the three paths would have led to, or been full of, or if all roads lead the spikes. Jo hated not knowing enough about the Horizon, never thinking she needed to know about everyone's favorite little mental meeting place.

Not like this. She can't even guess what this place might have to throw at them.