[ his arms are burning, there's no denying that, the way he's gritting his teeth just to make sure Peter won't fall down — but any discomfort this gives him is irrelevant. he promised; he's going to do this.

honestly, he wants to laugh at the comment, but in his experience, ghost girls down in the well are all too close to what he's used to back home. ]

Yeah, fingers crossed! I mean, yours, not mine, I can't really manage that right now. Toes crossed?

[ the next time Peter yells up to him, his voice is faint, barely anything more than an echo, and Stiles has to strain to hear the words. he catches slow and crawls and puts it together. ] Okay! Be careful!

[ after that, it is an agonizing wait of, oh, five minutes at the most, though it feels twenty times longer — when he finally hears something, he can only guess what the words actually are... ]

I can't hear you, man, I really, really hope that was an "I'm ready" call and not a "help, a water spirit is trying to eat me", but anyway— let's get you up!

[ heigh-ho ]