"Don't worry about me," Grif replied, waving an arm as if he could brush away concern. "I'm not the one with the compulsive ass-risking problem."

Every ounce of Grif was drawn tight with nerves. He could really, really, really die out here and he was putting forth a valiant effort to not think about it.

Thinking about someone else dying instead didn't help as much as one might have hoped.