“Alright, Gadriel,” Altan says, starting to smile slightly; he simply does not believe that this man is not some kind of martial spirit. “I’m not sure it’s a taunt,” he says, voice going thoughtful, “if we were meant to feel corralled it wouldn’t be that hard to pull something really nasty out of our heads. So why the acrobatics? It would be fun, if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t convince myself I won’t splat on the ground. Entertainment, I suppose.” He looks more sharply up at Gadriel. “Unfortunately, I can’t really afford to stay here forever.”