S'just Yngvi, no airs and graces for me. [He's not some fancy gentleman.] Smells like unwashed teenage lad, trying not to let anyone drip on me, offering services as required for running around, doing odd jobs. How you holdin' up?

[He's not at all absolutely terrified of his good rifter friend Rey or more importantly stepdad Thranduil and by extension his lady or ex-roommate Wren losing their marbles and maybe dying. He's fine. Totally fine.]