[ Perfectly accommodating. Douman mirrors her ease with his derivative of it, his posture straight-backed and demure; it's only the sharpness of his expression that betrays him despite the beguiling smile he wears, the knife's-edge tar of his dark eyes. ]

Mm, mm... how foreboding! My text details drastic measures for dire circumstances, and yours details the potential outcome of said drastic measures.

It's so often that magecraft backfires spectacularly against poor odds. A tragedy, a tragedy indeed...

[ Theatrical head-shaking. He doesn't sound sorry or troubled at all, incidentally. ]

What say you, my lady? I suppose it'd make one's heart ache to consign others to the freezing pits of this hell, but I commend your commitment to self-preservation!