[HOPEFULLY.

Man, it's nerve-wracking in this position; last time he'd been through this, in the jungle, he'd been the one cutting the other person free, and that had been stressful enough. Now the knife's aimed at him instead. And he hadn't really considered how he might feel about that—why should he feel anything about that, huh? That'd be stupid! She's helping him out! He trusts her not to suddenly stab him or something! —And yet he's a little more nervous than he'd like to be, heart picking up and skin going a little pale, entirely outside of his control. Ugh. That's so stupid and uncool . . .

But he's not hurt, no, and he's eager to play off his unexpected, unintentional reactions, so he smiles at her instead and shakes his head. A little too flippantly.]

Nah, no harm done, it's all good! I mean, it will be once we're outta here! I'll take care of you once you've got me, and then maybe we can come up with some better way to party than this, right?

[What a great plan that would be, if only the vines were being more cooperative about this whole being cut off his wrists thing.]