That gets the attention of some of the cooks, giving the Seeker a startled look. The boy could've gotten anywhere, he has to-- "It's fine," he says in a hurry, motioning to the floor. "Just clean that up."

And he's dashing off. Which doesn't seem fine, but what are they gonna do, question a Seeker of Truth? Malcolm's got a good eye, but he doesn't know where to start except to simply start, looking down corridors. What if he isn't even in Skyhold anymore? How far did he go? But the boy's concerned about people, and nugs. Might not have gone far, although Skyhold is still massive. Especially if he doesn't want to be found. If he doesn't want to be seen. He makes his way outside.

Something else bothers him, niggling in the back where the thoughts of spirits (Hope with such a soft voice, Despair so ragged) are vying for attention. Senior Enchanter of the White Spire. This spirit, this demon, this kid, this...whoever, whatever, had he been there? Had been at the Spire when everything happened? Had he been a mage there?

"What are you?" he muses aloud in wonder to the air. Best check the perimeter yet, while his senses are still on high alert.