"No, of course not." There were very few people who would actively use personal tragedy to manipulate others, certainly not on a matter so relatively trivial. David had no desire to take the significance of the conversation away from her by spinning it into his web of troubles. Arla's experiences deserved more than that, even if David couldn't quite bring himself to laugh at the attempted joke. Although, there was an element of fairness to it. "If you ask me a question, I'll probably answer it anyway."
At a loss for further words, he shook his head. The massacre of the Morlocks had a definite source, a man behind it who not only seemed to still be alive, but was capable of doing further damage. A mental note was made to find out the name, if anyone knew it, learn whatever he could and see if just maybe there was anything else to be done. Quietly, discreetly, without any more good people being harmed.
None of which thoughts were helpful at the moment -- crusades were a hard habit to break but David pushed it aside, setting a gentle hand on Arla's good arm instead.