Thankfully, for any of Martin's physical fumbles, the man knows how to run. The adrenaline is running through him faster than his feet could move, and he takes Mercy's hand when offered until he's back on the ground. From there, she needn't tell him twice- he is off, putting those long strides to his advantage.

"Jon! Jon, keep-- keep talking, we're coming, don't give up!" They feel like stupid statements, but anything, anything must help. He keeps Mercy in his periphery, barreling through the underbrush heedless of scrapes or scratches. They can save him. They can save him and it'll all be right again, he knows it.

His head turns towards Mercy after a bit, looking around for the next path. "Which-- which way from here??"