It's trickier here, when only some of the threats are physical. [Koby accepts the hand, his own callused, scarred -- life at sea is hard, and despite his relative short slightness, he's definitely used to hard work, if the state of his hands are any indication. Getting to his feet, he nods thoughtfully at the state of Alicent's dress -- easier to run now, at least.

Satisfied, he starts tying off the small strips of cloth every few steps, marking corners they take, forks in the path, etc. He's careful, mindful of the fact that though the maze seemed limited in the light, it's nighttime now, and it wouldn't do to run out of markers.] Have you run into anyone else? I hadn't talked to anyone who made it through, before I went in -- which I'm realizing now isn't good. I should've stayed away.

[A little sigh, examining a meeting of two paths, then indicating one with an arched eyebrow, waiting for Alicent's confirmation. Even though she's clearly not military, his need to defer to some sort of authority figure never quite vanishes.] Sort of? It's really more of a constant defense force -- Marines against pirates. Nothing as formal as a war.