[Richard remembers the warning. He just is under the misguided belief that the occasional handshakes and the incidental touches of daily interaction are enough to deal with the problem.

Tales of Morons.

A touch of wryness comes into Richard's smile.] I think I can manage at least that much. Let's just try to avoid cliffs. [See? He's fine. He's joking about his habit of falling off things and everything.

The world turns when he gets to his feet, but he grabs the park bench and it passes after a moment.] It's times like these I'm grateful that Windor is a more temperate climate than Strahta.