[ He hears the man heading towards the exit well enough, but hesitates to follow right away out of caution. Gildor isn't renowned for his excellent decision making, but something in this stranger's mysterious manner is unsettling him almost as much as this place. Almost. ]

Thank you, but I can keep up. [ There is a tone of genuine gratefulness in his answer, but also a strong air of confidence. It covers up the fear. Fear of this place, this stranger, of the not knowing. Besides, if he took the offered arm, the other might feel how his nerves are making him tremble or how his heart is still beating hard in his veins.

Gildor pushes the end of his staff forward again, following just behind. When he steps outside, the dark staff remains just as pitch black as it was before, as though entirely untouched by light. It carves a rigid dark line like an inky pen stroke from his hand to the ground. ]

I try not to fall into the arms of strangers so quickly, you see. [ His voice lightens to a more casual cadence as they leave the building and the oppressive air within. Another tactic to push the fear back. ] What is your name? Are you from here?

[ Wherever 'here' is. ]