Right, so... ravine. Mo glanced around wildly for a vine, noting that most of them were out of his limited reach and that those that were close were still TOO far away for HIM. Sigh. Stupid... old... person... ness. It was so tiresome to be this old. Imagine how people who were actually old felt.

"Accio vine," Mo tried, pointing at one that was only a few feet away from him. It wasn't a spell he needed to actually say out loud anymore, but he didn't want to overshoot the attempt and rip the vine off the tree above. Like it was magnetically drawn to him, the vine drifted in his direction, and Mo grabbed a hold of it with his free hand.

Okay, then... what was the spell again? Something with... Right! "Vinea Funiculus," Mo spoke clearly, imagining the thin vine in his hand twisting into a thick, sturdy rope that wrapped all the way up (securely) to the tree above. Just as he envisioned, the vine turned in his hands and he was soon holding something that would most certainly hold his weight.