"Hm.." He glanced at the floor, and rubbed his face a little, self healing always made him a tad fatigued. "…Y’know, ‘ve got a big sister who’s all ‘bout movin’ minds n’ souls n’ switchin’ bodies like it ain’t no one’s business n’ dang it usually isn’t, butcha know, I could on n’ give’er a ring." He shrugged. "..f’it’ll stop yer whinin’. Betcha she’ll on n’ stuff’er in a coma patient er somethin’ like that. Don’t know the details ‘bout the switcheroo, but the woman t’ watch when it comes tah spirits n’ souls, that’s a sure thing." He rubbed a dark skinned eye and tried to stifle a yawn, but could not.
"I think we can take care of this ourselves. We’ve got a man to do the job, and, sure enough, it’ll get done." She crossed her arms over her chest, grinning up at him. "After that, you’re free to catch us for dinner or something."
His demeanor and face brightened instantly at the invitation, and he smiled most pleasantly, as if he hadn’t recently been run through and now sat whoozed with magical healings and sealing wounds in his own hallway after collapsing thus. Apparently, the feeling of being welcomed to engage in dinner date shenanigans was something of a pick me up for the usually most one-sidedly sociable man. And as aforementionedly whoozed as he was, he found the usual curbing coolness of his reputation’s conservation to be somewhat crippled. He managed to douse the bright smile to a lopsided grin and his eyes arched in contentment. “..Dinner yeah? Dinner, yeah. Think I’ll swing right onto that word there. Y’went n’ said it n’ now it’s gon’ happen.” He laughed and glanced down at her, giving her arm a playful nudge with his own. “..Lookitchu, sendin’ the biggest baddie of the baddies an invite. Gotta say Clara, that’s a bold mould you got there.”