Ianto vaguely recalls a similar conversation in the forest before, and a moment of spinning, John's arms around him and thinking that even if they couldn't, this might be the next best thing. He shoves a cracker in his mouth, chewing methodically before he offers anything in the way of a response.

"It's possible," he offers. "Maybe not pixie dust in the traditional sense, but. They might have something. We could ask around?" Or look. They hadn't had much of a chance to do that, when they first arrived, tired and disoriented as they were. "At least they have the vines set up, I suppose. God knows how they'd expect us to handle this otherwise."