Here Myr had figured it for a desire demon--but given that little display, and all the preceding ones, it's got to be an embodiment of pride. It's neatly poetic that something created by sheer human hubris should project that in every gesture.

Myr gets to his feet and begins retracing his steps to the door. "But never reconsider your whole premise, huh?" he asks quietly, when it's made an end of speaking. "We're all desperately convinced that if we were only given what we want in life we'd be content--and we're every one of us terrible at articulating what it is we really need.

"I don't blame you for getting it wrong, time and again, if you're as bound as you say." In that respect it really couldn't be reviled the same way demons were; they talked the same line about offering Man his deepest desires, servants to his want, but they'd set out to turn mortals from the Maker to begin with.

This thing really was obliged to serve, even if it did so spitefully and with evident pleasure in the harm it caused. Which is why he is very much still cautious as he approaches it at the door, commending himself to Andraste as he does so. Depending on the thing's caprice he might not be that much longer for Talam--

Or it might not see him as a credible threat. That's depressing, but at least not as fatal as instinct's got him primed for.