Detlef's right. He's not relaxed, but he's also not unhappy, as evidenced by the warm smile he offers him before he grasps Detlef's arm and hops down, facing him and close enough that he could kiss him without stretching. But instead of a kiss, he steps back to a more conversational distance, though still holding onto his forearm.

"No, I'm- getting the hang of it. Its... I'm... thinking too much?" Farogil doesn't know how to explain the problem without, you know, explaining everything, so that will have to do for the moment. He casts a nervous glance towards the road, then hm's to himself and finally lets go of Detlef so he can head over to lean against a nearby tree, slightly less in view of passersby.

"I-... will you let me speak a moment?" he asks as he fidgets with Marion's reins. What he's really asking is: will you let me babble until I get out the words I need to without interrupting?