Silas was, indeed, chuckling. Munching on the remains of the rations he’d had handed back to him, he let out a content sigh. “…I’m good to walk, thanks. If I’m too tired, I’ll say so.” He mentioned with an upbeat tone. Every step was much lighter now, in the presence of more people. Even though one of them had a righteous stick up their arse, although that just meant he’s very passionate about camaraderie. As the band of misfits began their little trek, however, a snarky comment was thrown about from Talbot. With a malignant glare, he stared down his bound friend, an accusative finger pointed at him. “I’m [i]slow[/i], am I?” Silas growled, a crooked grin spread on his face. “If you keep this up, nobody’s going to want to untie you from our scene-maker here.” Doing his utmost to keep a serious face going, however, Silas’ grin cracked into a sincere smile as he let out a small chuckle. “Bah, I can’t keep up a farce like that. I sure hope I scared you for a moment, though, hah!”

With a change in focus, Silas looked over to Ambra, who he presumed was the one they’d come to help in the first place. With the eyes of a practiced kleptomaniac, he eyed her well-crafted bow. “…Woah. That’s a pretty bow you have there, Ms.Ambra. I take it you do archery, then?” He inquired rhetorically.