Forget what he was thinking: *that* is dramatic flair. Felix is very grateful he doesn't just spring behind the boulder out of flimsy self-defense.

He relaxes deliberately, peering at Harrow from under his hood, then rises to his feet with equally deliberate grace. The better part of staying cool and collected lies in acting it, he's found. He's eschewed the traditional grim black robes for the leather armor he wore last time: all the better to run for the trees if things go awry.

"I see no reason we can't," he lies cheerfully. It helps that under the wary alertness is a genuine curiosity, a part of him that's eager to put his skills to the test. He bows a little to the death knight before he leads the way to the park table turned altar. "I take it you're prepared? I- we'll need you to try and ensure this goes smoothly."