The problem with movement when a large, spawn of Bhaal ally is cutting a path directly at their target is that they feel a need to stalk harder. It spikes up a need to pursue all the more fervently and, even though there's less in the way of violent delights echoing around the inside of his skull, he feels that same tug of predatory adrenaline surge.

He's also far less concerned about how it might look for him to change his course quite so obviously. Politics isn't his passion, and so whether or not anybody has anything to say about his pursuit, he doesn't care to pay attention. He's big but turns surprisingly well and pushes off his heel in the direction Gortash leaves in. His gait is larger thanks to longer legs, so even though he isn't hurrying, the horror of him getting closer all the same exists, even if the other man isn't aware.

It means by the time Gortash slips through the door to the stairwell, a hand catches his wrist and pulls him deep into the shadows. With the both of them all but swallowed up and provided a modicum of privacy, he uses his frame to hem the smaller man in, pulse still quick from the thrill of the chase.

"Not a very warm welcome for me, Lord Gortash."

The words come in hot near the shell of the other man's ear, betraying the fact he's leaned down far enough to get all the more intimately in Gortash's face.