[ The offer of Jonas's kerchief takes Rupert by surprise; he'd never asked about the mass of scarring around Jonas's neck but Rupert has made friends with enough thieves, murderers and traitors to know what a noose burn looks like. Rupert also knows how particular the young man is about keeping it covered. The offering of the all-important scarf, the only thing keeping that ugly mark from Murphy and Peter's eyes, feels wholly and utterly wasted on someone like Rupert. You don't need to do that, he wants to say. But instead: ]

It's not my colour, [ Rupert insists warmly - meaningfully - from behind his fist. ] Thank you all the same.

[ And quickly, to spare Jonas from any further discussion or questions, he moves on. He turns his attention to Peter. ]

You. Don't be sorry.

[ Then to Murphy: ]

You... should probably be more sorry.

[ Not that Rupert sounds all that put out about it (and expecting somebody to be sorry is awfully hypocritical of him). Behind the hand he has cupped over his nose his eyes sparkle, lines creasing in a stupid - and impressed - grin. ]

Now look here, everyone. I'll get us out of here once I feel a little less like I've been trampled by an elephant. Give me five minutes to remember which way's up and what my fucking name is. [ He turns to Jonas now: ] How far have you magicked us, time-wise?