It didn't sound like a joke, and it hit Cassidy's ear oddly in the nanosecond before he remembered, oh right, he had just almost killed someone.

"You hopin' to stop me from some sort of rampage?" That was a joke, or at least was meant to be one. Then he felt the thirst at the back of his throat. He stepped on a twig, and the snap of it stabbed into his ear. "...that's a solid plan. Good thinkin', mate."

The mushrooms — something else to think about for a stretch. "Haven't made a lot of treks out this way. Probably for good bloody reason. We should've stayed in the bar; then this never would've happened."