As unnatural as this is, Barcus isn't sure even dwarves would be able to collapse it. He's starting to wonder about the red water now, too. It seems like plant material, and it's definitely not blood, but plants aren't always innocuous decoration for the environments in which they are found.

Actually, on that note, it would be clever to take a sample with them, but his only waterproof container is already full of fresh water. After a moment's thought, Barcus dips his handkerchief into the trickling stream, knots it tight, and sticks it back into his pocket. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't.

In the meantime, their priority is the child, and he gives Maedhros an encouraging nod, holding the rope steady for him as he climbs down.

At the bottom of the well, Tymothee is sitting up, but at an awkward angle indicative of pain. It looks like the lower half of his right leg is battered and swollen--if it's broken, that's where the break is, but that's a damn sight better than a cracked femur. He squints in the light of the fairy lantern, dim as it is. He's been in near pitch blackness up until their arrival, and even though Maedhros is a total stranger he looks like he's ready to fling himself into a hug out of sheer gratitude.