Considering exhausted and generally disoriented Hythlodaeus has been since waking up in this world, sitting by the fire and sharing a conversation with a dear friend is an extremely welcome thing. Perhaps a bit too rustic for their lives to be considered truly nostalgic, but the utter relief that comes from knowing he is in a place where Emet-Selch has his back is enough to allow him to forgive those cautious looks he can see his friend giving him.

That continuing strange tension that Hythlodaeus honestly cannot begin to name.

"What was I doing?" he steals a glance towards his friend, finally taking a moment to let himself take in this new-but-old face, the subtle differences in features, the stone in his forehead, the color to his hair. "The same as anyone, I imagine. Thinking and surviving."

Hythlodaeus takes a moment to lean back on his hands, legs crossed at the ankle as he tilts his head to the side, considering.

"Or do you mean that quite literally? As in, was I enjoying a midday cup of tea or running through burning streets as buildings collapsed around me?"