Cornifer nods, accepting this. Some of that pause was ascribed to the rush they both came in, for whatever reason.

He stands and stretches, tucking his notebook into the pocketed belt that substitutes his sack when he's not to wander. "Well, I'll be leaving it here. It's salted enough it'll keep for a while," he says to the Knight. "If you're staying?"

They nod. One of Myla's hands rises, patting them on a horn before returning to Grimmchild. They pat her back, and tap Grimmchild between their eyes, who completely ignores this.