@godforge - ‘you ought to rest some. you look like death.’ - for ash!
Arriving at the Inquisition had been raging over hell and high water. Leaving Anders behind for his safety was half the stress. Ash leaned against a brick wall, wondering where Varric had gotten off. In their stupor, they almost hadn’t heard the Inquisitor. She seemed a decent sort-- Ash thought they had a knack for knowing when people were-- and they tried not to snap at her.
Their temper had always been their greatest downfall. At least, they weren’t Carver. Who they missed. Sorely. Wherever he was right now, in this horrible war. Hopefully, sending Avaline to retrieve him from the templars had kept him from being strung up as a mage sympathizer.
Bloody rotten templars.
They shook their head, “I will. Soon.” Probably. Hopefully. They still wanted to talk to Varric again.To be honest, they hadn’t been here long at all and still had a fearsome journey ahead. Not that they weren’t used to fearsome journeys. A quiet laugh, that tried so hard not to sound bitter passed through their lips.
How quickly Ash had lost everything. Their mother. Their city. Their friends then scattered to the winds. Once they were done here, they planned to go retrieve Fenris and drag him back by the ears. Every day was trying to survive one to the next-- but Ash couldn’t afford not to think ahead. The future kept them going.
“Don’t worry about me, Inquisitor,” they said, a confident smirk curling their lips, “I’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t a lie. Hawk was always fine. They had to be. For everyone else. Maybe the Inquisitor would understand something like that.











