"I am well... as much as can be expected, big brother" Thomas replies, stepping as to let Micheal's hand fall away, forcing an insincere smile.
You can see Micheal take this as grief. Hm, it appears the oaf really does sympathize with Thomas' recent loss.
"That is good, Thomas. Well, to hunting, hm? That ought to brighten the day a little."
"Perhaps, Micheal. We can but hope... Here, you boys, fetch our equipment, won't you?"
"At once my lord!" Replies one of a pair of servant boys, dogsbodies both.
"But, my lord," says the other "Sera Micheal's bow ought to be here already..."
"Why you impertinent little-" Thomas begins, cut off by Micheal.
"Calm yourself, brother... Boy, if you brought my bow, where is it?"
"It.. it was there, sir. By your horse, on a stool."
"Well... we shall find it. Search, won't you?"
And the search begins...