He jokes, but a part of Molly thinks it would be the best option. Burn the place down and head back, report that there was nothing of interest on that island and then spend the rest of the evening drinking before Molly's inevitable venture into the Blooming Rose.

"A little," Molly exhales, almost defeated, "Morbidly curious."

Red eyes flick towards the cottage, then to Frumpkin as the cat trots up the path before them. That seals it, he thinks, because he certainly isn't the sort of asshole who leaves their wizard alone on a spooky island where he could be ambushed.

He grins, hands resting upon the hilts on his swords before he draws them both with a dramatic flourish. He spins one briefly, then follows it with the other.

"Just in case."