He doesn't like being read. He likes padding what he's been through with jokes for most, and with the stark truth only when it will be useful. While this might count as a use, he doesn't have control over it and it makes him nervous, uncomfortable, wanting to deny it... and hoping desperately that she's telling the truth about what's going on. That she's right.

Taking a breath, Anders looks down and nods. One desperate person. At least he'd not truly cut down mages. For all that they complained, they were out. For all that he'd hurt, they were out. They'd moved forward. What was happening here? People being murdered, fed to pigs and burned to ash? That wasn't truly helping anyone, only hurting. It's a small hiding place, away from the full weight of guilt.

"Thank you. I hope we manage to not disrupt what you've found here." People should have a sanctuary, so long as no one is hurt by it. "I'll take my leave of you, then? Unless you want to tell me my fortune. I've never had anyone do that before."