Though he felt somewhat rushed out, time was an issue of import. Likely his short meeting with the Lady would be divulged with the maid to sate her curiousity, but that was not his place. His was by the roadside. A vagrant simply trying to do what he feels will accomplish the most good. Those ideals in mind, he brought his hands near his face. One a fist wrapped about by the other as he tuned out all but the most essential of noise. No roof over his head, the open road was his chapel. Here he offered prayer to Desna, for safe travel and a fortunate future. He stood there a long while, enough so that the occassional passer-by might question his sanity. When the urgency of his task returned to his mind, Sigmund headed for the barracks to see if the earlier disruption had been resolved.