Walker focused on recovering from the rather jarring series of events leading up to this while the other two went about insisting on offending their host, half closing his eyes and quietly sighing in response. Unintentional or no, was it really so hard to watch what one said? Tracking what was said and not chiming in until silence settled in, at least briefly, the man forced himself upright to accept the fish and consider what was said and going on. Plague surgeon had probably burnt himself out on mana, and given his limited understanding of mages, well, they were lucky they'd not just been torn apart by the onrush of forces pooling into the new, empty void. Given that hadn't happened, it probably worked differently here. Still, the odds were, given that he had not even stirred yet, he was a lost cause. Shame, that reality warping capability was useful, if completely disconcerting. He could also feel the mental lockbox he threw stress into straining to the brim, near a complete nervous breakdown given all the foreign, new, and, by all of his known standards, impossible things in such a short period of time. Several thing stuck in his mind, and as he moved to the fire to accept fish, a staple of Istvargrad diets, he would process while speaking.

	[color=598527]"If the plague surgeon is completely burnt out of mana, we're obscenely lucky to have survived the incident. What interests me is the Kites, [i]plural[/i]. How many times has this happened before us? A bunch of lost lambs, on the run from our mutual, well, bastard of an acquaintance, being dumped in a shrine belonging to a unique and, you have my gratitude for this, hospitable individual, only to be escorted to, what I assume to be, a relatively safe establishment in spite of unknown dangers in the woods..."[/color] Walker was thinking along far too many lines of thinking at the moment, in an effort to avoid glossing over details in the face of the overload of information going on right now. The gypsy was going about meditating and doing...strange mage tricks to attempt and fix her mental issues. He doubted it would work, she'd been far too quick to assume them enemies, even taking that Keepa puke in mind. Someone to keep a close eye on, though he wouldn't say as such. No, best to keep that on the down low until loyalties can be ascertained either way. Her questions after aiding the plague surgeon reminded him of the almost panicked focus when she learned he was inert, and he chimed in between bites.

	[color=598527]"If these so called strings of his are cut, as none of us held them to my knowledge, I doubt there's anything to be done for it, doubly so being completely burnt out as it has been said. He got us this far, at least this one did, and if he isn't showing any signs of recovery by the time its time to leave, well, we can't be lugging around a corpse for numerous practical reasons."[/color] It was cold, sure, but Walker was in no condition to be carrying anyone, and more importantly, temperament since hauling that gypsy had only gotten a hostage situation and rather meek thanks. Beyond that, if there were numerous versions of this Kite doing this, there was bound to be more information and, possibly concerningly, the chance to run into another, less willing to help version of this plague surgeon. He doubted the others would be pleased to hear him putting things as he was, but there was not much to be done for it, so needs must. Once they were ready, they could ill afford to wait around for someone who may never wake up again.