Considering Theon had been seconds away from becoming a blood sacrifice, he's feeling a number of surprisingly deep and soft things-- at the rescue, at the touch he wants more of, at the notion they'll leave because Theon's hurt.

He takes the knife with a nod, and then glances over at where he's pretty sure magic might be happening, something catching a peculiar purple fire.

"Good call," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. As for finding their way out, he'll defer to Daryl at this moment.