"It's fine. I'm fine," Des rattles off quickly, brushing down the length of his sleeves and not much minding if the shards catch at his fingertips a bit. He nods at Presley. "You fine?"

Definition's a little variable, considering the current circumstances. But Presley's right, it isn't like anybody was given a real choice in the matter. Kinda been dumped into the deep end here.

"Well, you ain't gonna break her fingers for it," he reasons, glancing around the room. "So maybe we got to do something first? Anything seem off? Other than the obvious everything."