Benedict thinks on the question a moment, shrugs a shoulder noncommittally as he sips from his drink.

"Comfortable," is what he decides on, "in the context of... settling in, I suppose." The corners of his mouth quirk in a little smile-- he's never been one for verbal sparring, never found that his mind can work quickly enough to make his mouth do anything but stammer.
"I can't pretend to know what it's like for everyone, but I felt more settled when I..." A pause, as he chooses his words carefully, "let myself relax into it. The new place and people, I mean."