For a given definition of well. I'm quite happy with my current circumstances, thank you.

[ Is he? Not really. Though in many ways, he's better off now than he was in the before-times; he had felt content then, knowing that he had the love and approval of those around him, that his life was going down the correct path. Now, he gets to live as he pleases, and nobody seems to approve at all.

It is what it is. They've got bigger fish to fry than to snipe at each other. He wraps his robe around himself a little tighter (do try not to glance at his bare, hairy legs sticking out from underneath it), and stomps back over to the nearby stable to grab a shovel, still tacky with damp hay. ]

I don't know what we'll do if it is dangerous. It's not like either of us are fighters. But I can just about wave this around, [ he says, brandishing the shovel before stomping forward to the front door, looking a bit trepidacious. ] Only the gods know what we'll find in here... ugh. [ He knocks at the door. ] Joann? Joann? Please say you're in there!

[ There's no answer. With a searching glance behind him, he opens the door. ]