For a moment, he considers the blood being sucked down into gaps between the uneven paving stones. There is the toe of John's boot near to it, and the set of the crutch's foot. The light is too spotty to accurately count the stitching on his boot, but—

Flint's attention flicks past him. After a brief study of the alley's narrow mouth, his attention does eventually come to settle on John. Not avoidant of the subject. Weighing. A measurement.

"There's some possibility that it could be helpful."

Is not saying to do it. It's only an assessment.