Good call on not telling him the too weird part. Thankfully, Martin's weird threshold is pretty high, so he'd be unlikely to blame the tea regardless.

"Oh, it's-- thank you. I'll, uhm, I'll see about-- you know, getting some good stuff from across the pond." He has no idea how he's going to do that, but like, he'll figure it out later. Right now he's going to enjoy this tea, this moment, and a single bit of calm in the disaster he calls a life.

"I guess it's at least nice to have something that reminds you of home. Whether it's uhm, tea or the, uh-- the flute." He doesn't want to keep calling it the Bone Flute. It just feels wrong somehow. "I'm sure whoever you gave it to wouldn't be too sad to know it's with you and, uhm, r-reminding you. Of them, I mean."