Felassan casts a glance in the direction of the courtyard, though he can't see it or the door in question, and acknowledges the offer with a tip of his chin. Generous — perhaps too generous, when Lavellan already seemed cross with Solas for bringing Felassan here without asking her first — but it will be a little while before that's an issue.

"Ma serannas, lethallin. I'm going to have a look around," casually, like he might pop into the village to look into the shops, not be gone for weeks in search of the edges of the map; "but I will come back," less casually, like a promise.

He picks up a second hearthcake, for the road, without making a show of being unsure whether it's polite.

"Try not to do anything I would beg you not to in the meantime, will you?"