It is definitely only a matter of time before Myr gets into trouble. Exhibit A: He's stopped with his left foot firmly planted in a patch of poison sumac dewy with little white berries. That's going to make for several miserable days once he gets these clothes off and spreads the resin everywhere, all unwitting.

Kit's amusement is infectious; Myr brightens at description of the guard's flight, breaking into a smile of his own. "Glad I could put on a show," he replies, turning to face the source of the friendly voice. It's only polite, after all, even if he can't look at this other fellow--other, not-human fellow. Hm.

"Ah--" For a moment, his own pride rears up to choke him. Yes, there's an awful lot to trip over and run into and yes, he's blind and woefully out of his element, but damn it he made it this far from the Gallows on his own (mostly) without getting into trouble or being smothered by anyone's concern and-- Myr exhales firmly through his nose, dropping that line of thought. "--I might be in a little over my head," he admits, ruefully.

"Didn't think forests would be full of all this natural grandeur." He gestures expansively with his free hand, clipping a nearby oak with his fingers and wincing at the sting. "Case in point."