"There's an inn. The Maker hasn't completely forsaken me." Though the number of people who find this random appearance from a fountain normal is beginning to disturb him. Did they all arrive this way? Where is here anyway? Should he be concerned as to the transport? Was transportation what had occurred? How much distance had he traveled? How had he done so through water when he'd been sleeping in a bed far in the mountains?

He shakes his head to clear away the questions vying for his attention and looks over to the man with the...impressive cloak. It wasn't his style, but he could appreciate the design well enough. "I would even accept porridge at this point." He waves a hand. "I believe the saying has something to do with beggars and choosers." He isn't about to ignore an observation, though, and he stands from the bench, closing some of the distance between himself and Bobo.

"This...arrival via fountain is something to which you're accustomed, then?"