Tymothee latches onto the hem of his rescuer's tunic, needing the stability of something to cling to after so long alone in the darkness. He's very visibly shaken up, but he's surprisingly cooperative, murmuring only a 'yes sir' when Maedhros looks to his injury. He grits his teeth, already in pain, but he's a farm boy, and there's inherent calm and practicality in his constitution.

"A-all right," he says. "I'll...stay still. Is there, um, do you have water? I'm really thirsty."

Up at the top of the rope, Barcus doesn't dare wander far, needing to be within earshot in case something happens, but he finds himself peering into the dark all around him, trying to listen for something other than the soft trickle of red water. It's eerie, and it may be his imagination, but for a moment he fancies he hears distant whispers.