"Good man," he says, just a bit strained. He will not have hope. Percival is aware that he's putting himself in Fjord's debt, in his companions' debt, and he has... nothing, right now, save for what washed up with him. He'll figure something out.

Percy looks at his boots for a moment, then nods.

"I need to get this salt out of my hair, if nothing else," he says, though now that there's a chance he can get wasted, he's looking forward to that. If he's going to sleep this off, he doesn't want to do it sober.

He gets to his feet and collects his notebook to put it back in a coat pocket. He doesn't put the coat back on, however. He'll just carry it.