He doesn't need a conversation partner. If the fellow can lift and carry, that makes him good enough company. Or it would, if Cade could manage it. As he trips over the barrel, Marcoulf braces his grip on the poles where they're balanced across his shoulder and under the curl of his arm. He staggers to keep them even, doing his level best not to plow Cade straight off his uneasy footing to the ground.

When he's certain one or both of them isn't about to topple over: "Are you well?" His tone's even enough though there's an undeniably biting subtext to the question.