[Her attempt to look more waifish and vulnerable only has him roll his eyes. Sorry, Fie. He's not falling for it after seeing you fight. It would be an insult to think of her as delicate after all, right? Hell, it would be like thinking of Mitsuru as needing protection, and he can't even imagine the ass-kicking he'd get for something like that.]

I'm sure I'd survive. [It's a dry, blunt comment back, just a thoughtless back-and-forth to fill in the space around them otherwise occupied by the must of abandonment and disrepair. As she jumps, he crunches through whatever debris is on the floor, letting the bits of wood skitter from where he hits it, or other parts just be crunched underhoof.

He pauses at the doorway, one hand moving up to rest at the top of the frame, as he leans over her to peer into the room. Just as she's said, there was plenty of wood splintered and broken around, including one thick beam still half-hanging from the ceiling, jutting down at a diagonal point to the main cluster of plaster powder and broken mess in the center of the room. Maybe the epicenter of something falling straight through the floor above.]

...At least the roof was still holding. Shit, we were running over that thing--

[And Fie, barefoot, is just strolling right in, just out of reach when he throws out an arm to try and catch the back of his coat and halt her. He scoffs out a breath as his fingertips brush the wool, and he takes a step in, some sort of metal nail or screw rolling away from his own clumsier-in-comparison steps]

Hey, get back here. You're gonna get magic-tetanus or some shit.