He glanced up at Makaria's face, seeing how distressed she looked, and felt a little bad for her. She meant well, and he wasn't offended, he just didn't really want to dwell on what happened to him or he was going to not be doing so well.
"It is a strange thing, what we go through as immortals, isn't it?" He straightened the pieces on the board. "Your afterlife is not the same as mine. Valhalla is all drinking and fighting and song. I find it hard to picture you there. You are far too sweet for bloodlust."