Mm, please, don't be! It's not something of mine to mourn.

( He wasn't owed the right, when it came to his martial uncle. Nor himself in a strange way, but there's no uncertainty in the strength of his own pulse, here or back home. )

Enough of this, we're being sad! Eleven, when did you last eat? We've got millet over the fire, it's warm enough to not be all burned on the bottom, unless you like it that way, in which case we can definitely figure out a way.