The laughter was nice to hear, it seemed like it had been awhile since he heard it even if that was not true. Since the calm after the storm, things seemed so normal, almost quaint with battles to be had here and there. This though, it was another type of torture, living in a small home, on his own, with only the sight of a few familiar faces yet men like Cricket seemed to make it better; the more outgoing type, not afraid to strike up a conversation with a stranger. So far so good, he was happy for his company. Still, as the other speaks, he continues his motions of planting, finishing off what he was working with and waiting for the man to dig the next hole patiently, running the dirt between his fingers.

"I'm not too concerned, I don't plan on taking it any time soon." He was a man of his means, and would rather make his own medication than depend on something too new, not knowing the side effects of not taking something for his entire life then suddenly deciding to; it could interfere with his own magical abilities, something he was not willing to risk. "So you are a musician, you travel around performing your art--a bard would you say? Bards don't have time for a life at home, I suppose though it's fine all the same."

When the other asks about his family though he looks up and smiles at him, kindly enough before reaching out to take the other mans hand that was holding the trowel and positioning it to the next spot, humour in his voice.

"I'd rather not broach the subject, I normally save such talk for something much further along; say the fifth date at least."