Llewellyn makes a sound, fussing a bit at being told to stay still; did Rhy know nothing about him? He was practically incapable of staying still. Especially when he was currently trapped under someone in the middle of the most absurd pit-trap he’d ever come across. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get my footing? I’m closer to uh— wherever the floor is under all this.”

He does finally still though, either committing himself to his fate as a ball-pit creature or actually letting the more coordinated of the two of them get this sorted.