[Oh, while it's tempting to nose around, it doesn't seem like much has changed, and he can always do that after, can't he? He follows a few steps behind until Winter makes himself comfortable, then leans in with his hands on his hips, looking down at him with red eyes.]

An adventure without mind flayers, cultists, and something trying to kill me around every corner? Say it isn't so.

[That is to say: this is a much preferred kind of "adventure." Astarion takes a seat beside Winter.]

We have fun. That's the important part.