[Appropriate indeed, and when the reprieve comes, he appreciates it. Drains half his glass before he looks up again, the edges of his smile a little less ragged. He hurls himself headlong into these situations, acts more often than not with reckless abandon, rarely stopping to think through the full impact of the consequences before he does so. But it is important, isn't it? To stop the plague. To try and atone for his failures from three years ago, all those bodies, all that death. Better that someone like him suffer the worst of it, so that no-one else has to.

Still, the praise leaves him vaguely flustered, and he clears his throat.]

Well, um. I think it had to be me, who found those answers. So of course I was prepared to do it.

[But he's more than willing to let go of it, for now. To still the jump and jitter in him at everything he's left undone and the big open fear of what would happen once he was hanged, had he not been snatched away before he could go through with it.]

Let me see, then. Uh, I don't believe you told me why you chose your profession? I wouldn't mind hearing about that, if you would.