He wonders if it’s a coincidence, so many people being pulled from the same place or very similar ones. It’s hard not to think so when it seems he meets someone new every week who has lived through the collapse of civilization and seen the darker side of humanity in full swing. At the end of the day, after any life-shattering event that pits every man’s desperate needs against each others’, it’s other survivors who’re the biggest threat to one’s safety.

”Think so. Somebody by the name a’ Revas…?” There’s a questioning lilt to his tone, as he isn’t too sure on what terms she and Anders are on and how it might or might not shift the mood. There could be more than one elf around, though, for all he knows. Maybe these two have yet to meet.

He unpeels a packet of butter and scoops a bit onto his knife, almost settling into a comfortable place until the question arises. One meant to be a harmless icebreaker, he’s sure.

“Well… there ain’t much left of it.” There’s a long pause as he thinks about trying to put a (wryly) joking twist on things, since it’s not pity he’s looking for. But humour fails him. “An’ what there is… I, I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”

He shrugs softly after a moment. "M'sure it ain't so different, for many people. Every place's got problems."