He sighed. "I suppose I ought to ask how... long, it's been, for you, for a start. You have- questions, I'm sure. And, doubtless, a desire to punch me, for which I would... not, begrudge you at all."

He rubbed his face, remembered that he'd been daffodilled, and removed the arrangement with an expression of mild distaste. Yellow. Why. "I am- glad. That you made it out."