If I were lying, I'd at least have gone to the trouble of making it sound more convincing.

[No. No punchline.

[You're a million yalms from home, a corporeal ghost of a girl whose own body is withering away in a bed somewhere, and you desperately need to find your smallclothes.]

He's a Miqo'te. A redhead, redder than you - I can't rule out the possibility that he's found his way here, too. In which case, if he wishes to practice by shooting an apple off your head, I'd suggest finding a way to politely decline.