It isn't the question Myr had been expecting, but Simon's brief crisis of conscience bought him enough time for the last of the fear to ebb away and he can answer in a tone that's passing level: "Finding my way, ser. I realized I might become turned around in unfamiliar territory and thought to mark my path back."

He doesn't lower his hands or do so much as draw breath, focusing as hard as he can on appearing harmless. The longer this goes on, the more time his mind has got to run and a new fear has time to take shape: This isn't one of the templars he knows. Difficult as it is for him to wrap his trusting heart around the idea, there are malicious templars out there, templars who wouldn't scruple to abuse or kill those under their charge at the slightest provocation. Would he know in time to defend himself if he ran into one of those? Has he already?

Hope for the best. The Inquisition would root out all the bad ones, wouldn't they? And this fellow doesn't sound malicious (he's got a nice voice, actually, some detached idiot part of Myr's brain remarks), simply as weary as one might expect from someone having to chase mages all day long. Mages who're putting suspicious runes all over a forest they weren't supposed to be in in the first place.

"They just make noise," he volunteers, abruptly. "And give a little charge to whatever they're resting on, so I know where I've placed them. That's all."