"Maker's breath," Cullen huffs, cheeks reddening. It's not how he sees himself or what he did, and to hear it described in such a way is flustering. "You know, I..." He can think of no way to end that sentence that won't end with him more flustered yet, so he doesn't.

He does, however, slow his stride once they're out the mess hall so it's less like he's rushing him from one destination to another. The Gallows still bears scars from the fighting, deep soot stains on white marble, brown blood stains in the stone and some of the carpets they haven't had time to think of trying to replace. In this it reminds him a great deal of the Hold. He has perfected the art of looking without seeing when it comes to these things.

Just as in Kirkwall proper, getting anywhere here is a matter of stairs upon stairs. Stairs down, stairs up, and eventually they're in the corridor that used to house Meredith's office which has now become his own. The distinct stench of demonic incursion still lingers, largely due to the pride demons that manifested in the inner courtyard further down.

Cullen pushes into the office and heads for the desk. Unlike during Meredith's tenure, he has a chair for visitors. He gestures absently and searches through a small, neat stack of papers for the list in question. "Here we go." He offers it over.