"You think very highly of yourself," Eadwulf drawled. Pitfall of many a witch before him, across multiple timelines and worlds. "Yet that is not the same as being wrong."
The idiots, as Gordo called them, could do far worse than someone dedicated looking out for them. Someone not without considerable skill -- present circumstances notwithstanding. It wasn't his fault Eadwulf was of no help when it came to the curse.
"Rumor has it we never really leave, when we arrive here. It may be that you are still with your -- idiots, keeping them alive, just as I am likely making a fool of myself with the mother of my future--"
Eadwulf's beer slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers, spilling its contents into the grass.