"As long as we can find a way up." It... almost feels like falling backwards, too far, starting over again. His hand skims over the wall a little longer before it falls and he drifts to idly peer down the chasm opposite it—well, maybe that isn't the right word, but it's fucking close enough. Just plants instead of nigh-incomprehensible monsters his other half felt appropriate to keep around (maybe).

The stairs, at least, seem to be accessible—if flooded, when they come to them. John hums, tattered edges of his robes seeming to prod at the rainwater's current.

"Not time, but the weather is all too eager. I can't see any faults in them."