[That? That earns a full on bark of laughter, Cayde's mouth lights shining brighter and brighter with each subsequent peal that he's not able, or willing, to fight back.]

Tou-hecking-che! I stand defeated by yoru miraculous wordplay, bud. [He raises a browplate at the motions, and then theatrically tsks and shakes his head in return.] Don't be joking about those though, sometimes the old servos get locked up and it's a hell of a thing to work the kinks out.

[And here they are, standing next to a dead sapling, somehow joking about. It's nice, really.] But if you're needing something to grease your gears, between you and me there's wine stashed back in the temple area.

[Hair of the dog? Hair of the dog.]