[Dave doesn't pause for a second. He remembered that in life and especially his life, he is alone. Weakness is not tolerated and he'll pick himself up off the ground if he falls. It's how he has lived and probably how he'll die.

He studies the end of the hallway, eyes flicking over the worn stone for any sign of a threat.] I don't do plans. Overthinking leads to screwing up.

Whatever happens, will happen.

[There isn't a damned thing he can do to prevent an occurence meant to be. Dave's tone is one of finality, simply stating what is. Even with his powers over time, he's still beholden to it. Everyone is, in his opinion. As he comes to the entry to the next hallway, he slows to a stop. The stone floor is old, time and seasons of foot teaffic making it smootj. He taps it with his foot, noting how his foot could slide. Right.

Treading carefully it is. Joy.

He steps into the passage, ignoring the dust that rises into the shafts of day light.] At least the temp is normal. Last thing we'd need and just my luck would be a drop into toes falling off freezing or so hot you could fry bacon on the floor.