As evident as her concern is, he's determined to ignore it. It's the only way he's found to reliably get people to let it go sooner rather than later. Having other people worry over him just isn't necessary; he's survived so much worse than a little fall on his own and there are others who probably need legitimate concern directed their way. And so far, he's doing all right with the stairs. So, proof, in his mind. All is well.

"Hm?" Why would they be made of snails? What a strange thought. "No, they're snails. We use a few different species, they're bred for it. We just hook up a rotary so they can connect to the right transponder, and a receiver so they can transmit our voices." He sure doesn't know the technical details beyond that.

"Mine actually came with me, but it didn't survive the trip here. Poor thing."