It's a response that has his look- perpetually tired, perpetually exhausted by his surroundings, by far too long a life- become that degree more drawn. "Tragic," is the part he repeats with a shake of his head, tone making it clear that he'd consider it nothing of the sort.

With another, more inward sigh, he focuses on the rest of her answer.

"Yes, there's an awful lot of unknowns, aren't there," he agrees, with a certain measure of disapproval. Any interest he has in this underground runs more towards the dark, the cautious. "Though I'd be more concerned as to what designs they have for us. Whether we'll be allowed to leave if those chosen to negotiate have their audiences go poorly. They feed people to the moss, you know," which is the most cheerful sort of digression. "Perhaps we'll meet a more grisly fate than facing a few over-enthusiastic locals inquiring of Bonds."