Give me some credit, Sydney; do I really act like any sheep, to you? I should be disgusted in myself if I did! No, I follow you because it is my desire to do so. And I would blame myself over you because--

[He's not entirely sure, actually. Something about it feels like it happened on his end, though he had been healed from his leg wound after the confrontation with Callo. ...Maybe it had been funny dark business.]

I do, I suppose. Leaving the boy, the Inquisitor to their fates? It's been weighing on my mind since my feet left Lea Monde's stone floors. I see the undead feast on them every night, and it wears thin.
[Never mind that he's been also stewing in guilt for up and leaving against his will; admittedly they're about in equal amounts.
...Sorry, Sydney; there's probably an overload of feelings which Hardin's forgotten he's even in any danger of revealing heading your way oh nooooo!!!]

You have been chosen in so many other things in life; if you do not turn up on my doorstep by the end of the week, I'll be disappointed! I'll even buy some tipple for the occasion, what do you say?