[ He is not going to dignify any of that advice(???) with a response. Also, he tolerates the hair-ruffling for all of two seconds, and only as thanks for the coffee, before craning his head back and trying to swat Beowulf's arm away with his free hand. ]

Whatever, it's not like I'm gonna try to get taller at this point. I just gotta deal with it. And anyone who gives me shit about it can get bent -- people who judge people just based on that stuff are trash anyway ...

[ He's trying so hard to sound blase about this, but he is very bad at it.

-- at least Beowulf is rewarded for tolerating all this bitching and griping with some (semi-)useful information -- ]

And things are stupid here. It's quiet a lot, and then the resort decides to pull some bullshit, and then it's chaos for a week or so. [ A slurp of coffee as he looks Beowulf over, then adds deadpan: ] You'll probably be fine, though. Going by how you look. [ Pause, as he realize how that might sound and hurries to add, ] I mean. You look strong. There's been monsters and stuff before, so at least that won't be a problem for you, probably. I don't just mean you'll be okay with the sex stuff.