Dillon's eyes are cast low and to the side as he thoughtfully absorbs Bishop Flores' confirmation. It made natural sense here, among the wise elders. The Savage was a savage, though, in more ways than one. He knew he'd have to school himself to remain the tempter, and not the trespasser.
As Sidor offers his two cents, Dillon smiles faintly, one side of his mouth drawing up. He nods his approval once, so that his smile isn't misconstrued as a smirk. His grin was usually a peacefully disarming thing, but among this stern faced pair (what he could see of them), well, he doubted it would have the same effect.
"Deacon Grigoriev, I didn't necessarily mean going any farther than friendly good humor... to break the ice." Dillon straightens his face out to it's previous solemnity. He glances back to the Bishop, then, speaking respectfully. "And I agree with you both. I hope you will give me a chance to learn from your collective wisdoms, and continue to call myself Sanctified."