He might've conceded that maybe all that isn't so bad if it's balanced. He might've jumped joyous at the idea of bringing and angel back to his people-- specifically one that wasn't going to hurt him. But none of those things are said, and being non the wiser, all his focus is on that of the final note of this serendipitous expatiation.

Mother fucker says yes. He on the other hand gives two successive whoops of joy with a honk to follow.

"Seeking keep among the angelic! Never shall such righteous preach be believed by mine compatriots Beforan!" Not that they really ever believed him anyway, no matter how he implored his visions were true and real. The life of a Prophet he supposed. At least he had Mituna and Meulin. They believed him. Maybe they would believe all this too.

He's already starting ahead, walking and talking, spinning to walk backwards at times as he does so for the conversation and excitement guide him so. "What libations may we partake! What wicked delicious mother fuckin delicacies! Holy disquisition is due to thee, post haste, but of what? There is so much that ought be told, I do tell! Much that we must see--"

He doesn't stop there.