He inhales when the arm goes around him, closing his eyes for just a moment. In the last month he's gotten more kindness than he had in years, but this? Touch from someone who knows who he is and what he's done? There's nothing like being held. He takes another breath before refocusing, directing his thoughts away from the physical and toward the lesson. Though the elf smells fantastic, Anders' traitor nose informs him, leather and metal and clean.

"Latches," he echoes, bringing that mental picture into focus. Push the latches, so that they'd... well, latches catch. So there's something they catch on, and that train of thought explains what Zevran had just helped him do. "So now the next."

More tension is leaving his body as he urges the third into place and leans more against the Crow. There's no speed there yet, the motions aren't smooth, but he's starting to get a feel for how it should work, he thinks. Hopes, even. If it's this simple, as long as he makes sure he has picks, he could potentially escape whenever they catch on to who he is. It's nice to have even a tiny bit of hope for the future.

"There's... two more?" He feels two, but he's not sure he's got that right.