[Alfyn stares at the shifting and changing beds with no small amount of utter bafflement on his face. He has his satchel at his side, his more proper axe balanced across his shoulders (thank the gods it showed up! The hatchet was fine and reminded him of home but pretty close-range of a. . .), and a whistle of defeat upon his lips.]

This's already way out of my reach, Professor. I don't mind a good riddle now and again, but all this here's definitely more your speed than mine.

[Glancing between Cyrus's eager face and the beds, he grimaces.]

You just let me know what you need me to do and I'll do it best I can. You're not seriously thinking of climbing that, though, are you?