A deity. He had to say, the only time he'd ever been even close to considering himself nearing godhood was at the peak of his empire, when his strength was at its highest and the world was at his feet. And yet, he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the concept.

There's no time to explain it more clearly, though. Link has already said that they'll talk when the danger has passed -- or, passed as much as it can while they're in the Tower, anyways. England has had too many run-ins with things he'd describe as no less than horrific for him to think that the place is anything close to being safe.

The Hylian's unsureness is a smidge worrying, but he would rather take that option than the alternative of sticking around this wasteland. He shifts a little awkwardly. "Thank you," he eventually says. There will be time to say it afterwards, but it merits saying now too. This is more important than a small favor.

England knows he's going to have to hold onto Link, but he's hesitant to initiate it. He's not comfortable with touching strangers (especially knowing that he's the one being carried, which is a considerable blow to his dignity), so he doesn't want to draw it out longer than is absolutely necessary. After a while, though, he outstretches his arms, opening them to Link's hold, whenever she's ready.