"...yeah." He's not really sure what that's supposed to mean. One of those "you should get out more, Kralie, old chum," things, he's guessing. He shrugs, getting to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, lacking anything else to do with them.

"Anyway. Thanks for the, uh...'job' isn't really the right word. Pastime? Whatever. Yeah. Thanks for that."