Shay mumbles something under his breath. Something in Latin, it sounds like. Roughly translated as a quick protection prayer against evil spirits.

Old habits die hard. Even if Shay didn't fully believe in the Almighty God.

"No." He says, still gripping his sword. "You don't mean me harm. What would be the point in savin' me from those thugs if you did?" He's regaining his composure quickly, but still not straightening his posture.

"A spirit... I'm either hallucinatin' even more, or there's truth to yer words. I don't know which I prefer."