Tidus watches him, the throw of Roland's arm and the bottle being sent out into the seeing, the plop it makes when hitting the water: distant, but audible still. His legs draw in to let him rest his arms over his knees, and he switches the view from the man to back out, only looking in turn when Roland regards him where he ambles.

"And what's happening to us does?" It's where his mind goes to before Roland's point, but even then--it sounds cautious. And he can get that. Who even were they? They didn't know. Voidtreckers, sure, but were they playthings, or what?

"I'd be suspicious too. I mean, some weird train with a bunch of people saying they don't know what's going on. But that's gotta sound like a problem to someone in a job like that." Like, come on. If they actually spoke to them, had more than five seconds with them. They'd be able to believe what was really going on.

"I wouldn't mind spooking the train. This," he knocks up his chin in gesture, to the island, the vacation, "doesn't make up for the fact it's taking people from their lives and then dumping them without a word. Is the Void Ministry really any worse?"