He winced at the emphasis on friend, somehow embarrassed that he was so adamantly against harming the templar any more than necessary. Desi knew he was being soft-hearted, he knew that, but surely soft-heartedness wasn't the only reason to avoid murdering a man. Common decency must factor in somewhere down the line, right?
As the clouds overhead threatened to start a downpour, Desi frowned at the templar's body. "Besides hope for the best? I don't know, I haven't thought about it yet--but I've got a rope now. And there are plenty of trees around to tie him to, so I think that's my plan."
Scattered trees and underbrush peppered the entire length of the road to Denerim, and any of them would do as a decent spot to dump the templar. Desi tugged at Mortimer's unconscious body and found himself pleasantly surprised that the tempered steel armor wasn't near as heavy as he'd suspected.
Before he continued, Desi glanced back at Yonca. He would've liked to do as he willed, but he couldn't disregard that they were in this together. "...If that's alright by you, I mean. Once the rain washes our tracks clean, he can't have an easy time following us, but--like you said--he's seen your face."