"Yeah--yeah yeah---yeah--" it's with hasty agreement, and Quentin stumbles back, drawing on whatever the fuck energy is around them. It's easier now that he can adjust accordingly, and he throws up a shield so the templars can't cross the threshold without one hell of a fight.

It's more of a scramble than anything as he stumbles back again, looking at Dorian, clearly ready to bolt but having no idea where to actually run to.