Reynard can't resist an amused huff. "Isn't that what everyone likes to think? That their way is sanctioned by their gods?" He shakes his head and scratches his chin. "I guarantee that any gods don't think or feel like mortal men. They are their own creature."

There's a second where Reynard simply watches the other man. Then, slowly, he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "A dead man can help his fellow dead in whatever way he likes. Who am I to stop you?"