Half of a breathless laugh gets squeezed out of him by Dain's tight embrace, but Tuo can endure a lost breath or two for Dain's sake. He smiles into the fabric of his friend's clothes, fisting his fingers in the fabric, then forces himself to draw back just enough so that they might be able to see each other when they speak.

"...Have you been here, since Griston?"

"Oh, no, that would have been dreadfully tedious," he replies, all lightness and whimsy but for the bit of wetness at the corners of his eyes (treacherous tear ducts). He makes an expansive gesture with one hand. "Throw a dart at the map and I daresay I've been wherever it makes its mark, most recently Fairport. I come here during the festival seasons but, as you see," another gesture, "there is precious little of that at the moment."

His words taper off some as he gazes back at his friend; doubtless he could talk circles around him if he so chose, but after so long--

He takes one of Dain's hands and clasps it between both of his. "Come back to my camp," he says softly in their language. "Let's have tea and speak properly, not here where we'll be overheard by all these dim lights." A dig at the dutiful followers of the Path of Light.