#bledlegacy

❝ Love. ❞  Fenris chuffs; a noise somewhere between a barked laugh and a sigh. ❝ I have loved little, understand,❞ he says, fingers wrapping around his wrist, ❝ and I have loved nothing completely.❞  What little there is to love, in the life of an elf, is often a solitary practice. He eyes the scars that Merrill wears, cuts of pride on her fingers and wounds of hope across her arms — and the markings of the Dalish, a love that she cannot abandon.

❝ Perhaps we place too much stock in these things.❞  It is avoidance, he knows. He also knows that AVOIDING the inopportune largely contributes to his currently beating heart. ❝ Anger and loss, these are in the very least tangible. Revenge, actionable. It hardly does any good to humor idleness.❞