The Knight stopped and turned, facing Sigurd in a half crouch. When he saw the man's hand on the greatsword's hilt, the Knight growled deep in his throat and flexed his claws. But the man insisted he was not an enemy. And the Knight felt...drawn towards him.

He held up his right hand. The warmth of the golden triangle shining there seemed to spread into him, calming and soothing. He looked from Sigurd, to his hand, then back to the other knight. Then he caught sight of the glow coming from Sigurd's own triforce piece. And, from within the building behind him, the Knight felt...others. As more pieces were gathered, the resonance grew stronger, as if the fragments were calling to each other, echoing the cry back and forth.

The Knight finally stood straight. He lifted the ReDead's sword, and turned it towards Sigurd. Still his throat bubbled with a barely constrained, bestial sound. 

Then, whirling the blade, he performed the traditional Knight's Salute before using the bandages wrapped around the weapon to lash it to his back, in a manner similar to Sigurd's own.

He turned and started towards the HQ building. He still moved in that half crouch, as if he were a big cat slinking through the jungle. His head turned from side to side, and snuffling noises could be heard from inside the helm. He approached the door to the building and, after reaching out tentatively and looking over his shoulder, pushed it open.