#highashope

Memes!

His head drops a bit.

He tries to laugh, but it just comes out as a sigh.

"Well, you know, it's hard to— survive. As a mother. With all those children... And my coming along certainly didn't help..."

Children he wanted to be an uncle to. Give piggy back rides. Let them comb his hair, try on his armor. Maybe teach one how to use a sword! If their mother allowed it, of course.

All those dreams are fading fast, like the color draining from his face.

His being born ruined Goldanna's life. He should have known better than to think she'd—

He tries to pick his lips up again, and can't. He turns away, instead.

Alistair’s lips kind of curl at the comment. He’s not an animal, not some brute for hire here to… hit things. 

Maybe he should be grateful, but...

     “You’re a mage, hm?” 

She’s not even sure why that pops off of her lips first. Inara knows already – Duncan told her that her fellow Grey Warden was a mage from the Circle at Kinloch Hold. But as they stand there in the cold in the swamp, shivering softly, cute little conversational topics escape her. 

     “I’m going to do you one better,” Inara says, disgust thick in her voice and on her face as she peels some… web off her arm and flails her hand until it spluck!s off onto the floor.

Memes! Send me some!

They've been trying to get to know each other as they walk through the woods, these two young girls thrust at an army of monsters. Inara explains to the other that she learned how to fight when she was young. Raised with seven brothers, expected to be just as sharp and ready with a blow. Scrapping on the streets of Denerim for food and her life helped.

And then it's Elsa's turn. There is no spell that you can name that I can't cast.

The assertion makes the other Grey Warden laugh.

"Until this very moment, I didn't know spells had names," she says as she tilts her head, her eyes sweeping over Elsa and watching her face carefully just to see if the elf was fucking with her.