He feels bad for startling her when all he'd meant to do was let her know he was there, that he wasn't creeping on her out of nowhere or approaching with some hidden motive. He stops running when he reaches her, taking only one step off the path, so it's clear he's not trying to crowd her, and keeping his hands where she can see them so she knows he's not about to try anything.

"Sorry about that," he says, his expression sympathetic, one hand offered if she needs it for balance or to get off the grass. But then he blinks at her question. "A speed--oh. Oh," he says, and he laughs, because he knows where he's heard that odd word before.

"At the Babylon? That was me, yeah."