Haizea wants him to be hale and hearty and well so they can get that fight. Yeah, that makes sense. They were really excited for that. But it's not like climbing a mountain again is gonna hurt him, unless the whole thing blows up this time, and-
Garrot just blinks before Haizea's voice trails off for a moment. Is this how he is with people?! If so, it's so damn annoying, let him live!
"We're getting put in life-or-death situations against magical bullshit every day, none of us should be well." The words are scoffed out, barbed cynicism bubbling up from the relentless concern. If this was casual, soldier-style confrontation then that'd be one thing, but everything changes from one day to the next. There's no preparing or predicting or anything.
"I feel fine. Well enough." It's hard to articulate to someone who isn't a highly trained medical professional that his brain feels kind of like it did a hard reset while he was out. Aside from a little fatigue, occasional headaches, and the endless pestering and bullshit from family and friends pissing him off and distracting him from saving the world, he's pretty good. No worse than a killer hangover from his younger days.
But then, Garrot sighs. Time to deflect and avoid. This won't help him be his best.
"We've actually got one or two little deserts up there." He's smiling, warm and friendly and as if those concerns were never expressed. "We can make it a pit stop on the way up to that cabin, if you want."
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Garrot just blinks before Haizea's voice trails off for a moment. Is this how he is with people?! If so, it's so damn annoying, let him live!
"We're getting put in life-or-death situations against magical bullshit every day, none of us should be well." The words are scoffed out, barbed cynicism bubbling up from the relentless concern. If this was casual, soldier-style confrontation then that'd be one thing, but everything changes from one day to the next. There's no preparing or predicting or anything.
"I feel fine. Well enough." It's hard to articulate to someone who isn't a highly trained medical professional that his brain feels kind of like it did a hard reset while he was out. Aside from a little fatigue, occasional headaches, and the endless pestering and bullshit from family and friends pissing him off and distracting him from saving the world, he's pretty good. No worse than a killer hangover from his younger days.
But then, Garrot sighs. Time to deflect and avoid. This won't help him be his best.
"We've actually got one or two little deserts up there." He's smiling, warm and friendly and as if those concerns were never expressed. "We can make it a pit stop on the way up to that cabin, if you want."