[He makes that low incredulous noise that does him in place of a whistle.] Didn't manage to kill any of them, did you?

[Though he's getting the sneaking hint that perhaps that's a line of inquiry better left alone...] Yes, but too late for that now. You'll just have to while away a few extra days on a nice warm beach as you wait for help to arrive. It's an awful fate, I know, but the Maker will grant you strength to endure.

Even without any suitable sparring partners--what've you got against the Wardens, anyhow? [His tone is curious, not condemnatory, even though he's got to work to make it so.] --Mmh, well, I'm hardly drowning in sparring partners back here myself, but if it means I've got a chance to beat you when you get back all tanned [why is he thinking about that] and out-of-shape, I'll make do somehow.

[Long-suffering sigh.] It just won't be the same.