[Guzma actually barks a laugh - harsh, hostile, and cold. Expert? Is that what he is now? Because he let some crazed woman string him along like a little puppet, command him as she pleased, far enough through hell itself to nearly get himself killed by one of those things? If it weren't for the sheer force of his will, he would have been possessed for far longer than he was. He would have probably become some grotesque horror-terror like Lusamine did when she fused with it.

He would be dead, after absorbing so much of the beast's poison, that way.

Because of that, he's an expert? That's really funny. Funniest thing he's heard all day, in between the shitstorm of bearing witness to other people's most dark, vivid, and turbulent memories. Bearing witness to his own memories...]

I ain't no expert, and don't thank me. When those things come knocking...y'all are on your own. [He stands up, breathing deeply through his nose as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He wants to wake up now. He really, really wants to wake up. He's done speaking with people, having to explain himself, or console them. Pretend like nothing happened, or he's alright. He's done with it all.] I won't go near 'em. And if they come find me?

I'm bailing. [With or without you goes unsaid, but the words echo in his mind as he grits his teeth and paces around the fire a little. Wake up...just wake up...he doesn't ant to be here anymore.]