The wind isn't particularly strong tonight, but in freezing wet clothes, tired, a little beat up, and with one arm fractured, Jason is moving along entirely on the strength of his aggravation. However, it must be carefully mustered for the effort of climbing and inching along, so he only flinches and curses internally at the optimistic eel. Bruce also gets a cursory glance. At this point, however, he's focused on survival. He is not going to die of hypothermia clinging to a cliff or from falling back into the water because that's stupid.

It is the angriest, most silent climb he's ever done. If his eyes could shoot lasers, the cliff would be gone. None of it has anything to do with Bruce (anymore), though, all of it is simply the Jason engine at work. And when they reach shore, he staggers a little but keeps going.