[ No shit. As though nobody's tried that already— but he doesn't let the bullheaded individuality annoy him enough to prove a distraction from the task at hand. Already Yakov's eyes flit up and down the cliff face, studying the crags, the exposed roots. This isn't the way he and Matthias came, which by all accounts that should make their task easier, being that there's no ravine to navigate around, but here the exposed rock and soil looks less solid. Less predictable. ]

If there was an easier way, they would have told us. The longer we're out here, the less likely it is we'll come back with supplies.

[ Not unlike leaving the trenches, a parallel which isn't lost on him. ]