"Just a moment," says Spec, wiping his blade off on the leather of his boot, as the viscera from the orc that had collapsed around it cling tenaciously to the knife. He retrieves the rope, and notices that the rope seems to have been drawn back a bit.
"Just a moment," he repeats, but this time the tone suggests his attention has been captured by something. He is no longer just holding the conversation as he gathers his thoughts. He picks up the silky thread, and is somewhat surprised to feel comforted by its return, lightly in his hand. As he gathers it up, to return to the place where he had attached it, he is cautious. Has something shifted the sliding door? He approaches M44 to retrieve the rope.
"Just a moment!"