It is bleak, and Bobo knows his view can be that way, but when she explains what brought her to that moment, he can't help but chuckle. "I promise not to tell on you," he says, smiling a bit more warmly than most get. "Most just call me Bobo. Since it's really the only name I give. Pleasure to meet you, Rinoa." Since she's possibly worried about manners and all.

"I was likely going to die," he admits, shrugging as he works, dismissing it as nothing. Even if it's anything but. "I was wounded, and betrayed, and have since learned the person I was with was killed moments after I arrived here, so I can only assume I'm next." Again that shrug. Nope, nothing really. "So this place is kind of a godsend."

"Was it innocent for them? I mean, there's a possibility there was more to it than that. Seen it enough times," he admits, knowing true motives weren't always revealed. Though when she talks about how the magic works, his head cants, watching her. "And from one another? I mean, that could be why an innocent spar could turn," he points out, not trying to stir trouble, but curious.

He turns back to working for a bit, considering that answer instead of dismissing it entirely. Some know. One knows all of it, not counting Wynonna. "I was nearly forty when I died," he says, waving his hand to indicate time. "That was over a century ago though."

Some don't believe him, and he accepts that. He's been assured he's not the only one here living on extra years though.