[ Stupidly, Fjord turns his head about to where she directs with her gesture, finding himself rewarded with just another look at the arena and the stands instead of islands or bee gods. Back to Beau. The half-orc displays his own ability to roll with shit, folding his arms across his chest and 'mmhm'ing along with the serious expression of someone being given a totally legit run-down and not some story about fruit dogs.

He only rears his head and shoulders back slightly when Beau offers up the possibility of being dead. ]

Well I certainly hope the fuck not! I mean I know we were in kinda dire straits for a while there, but Caleb put up that dome of his and you two were sittin' watch before I PTFO'd. That thing's supposed to be indestructible.

[ He gives a sniff, turning his head back to the weapon's rack to consider what looks like a giant, plucked chicken. ]

Nah. This is a dream.