"Secondly, and most importantly, you don't fuckin' listen, yeah? My friend here," she gestured with her dagger toward Isethari, "said she wasn't interested. An' you..." She trailed off into a fake laugh, shaking her head. "You wanted to keep on pushin' anyway. That's the problem with you shems. You don't know how to take 'no' as an answer. An' it's a perfectly reasonable answer, at that! She don't need to explain herself, don't need to tell you why. All she's gotta do is say 'no' and you need to back the fuck off."

Rylee bent down, pressing her foot against his chest a little more. She tipped his chin up with the hilt of her dagger and gave him a cold stare. A brief moment of silence dropped down between the three of them as she enjoyed watching him squirm. Her fellow elf had gone silent, but Rylee wasn't focused on her at that moment. More intent on letting this idiot stare death in the face.

"Now," she said, gaze narrowing, "two things are gonna happen when I let you go. You're gonna get off your arse and march it over to boss man, an' then you're never going to talk to my girl here again."

"That's, uh, that's three things." He gave a tittering laugh that was quickly cut off as she applied more pressure on his ribs.

"I didn't fuckin' ask for your opinion, did I? Now we can stay here and I can keep pressin' my foot into your chest and we can see how long it takes before I start hearing cracks." She grinned wickedly at him, "Or you can be a good lad and do as I've told."

She watched the adam's apple of his throat bob up and down as he swallowed, hard. Slowly, then, he nodded. Rylee's grin split into a wide, toothy one.

Rylee's ear twitched and she looked over at her fellow elf. "And he didn't have to be a piece of shite, yet here we are."

She huffed and looked back toward the dog pens. Truth be told, she was still stewing over the whole thing. Regretting not just gutting him right then and there; save herself the trouble later. She knew he'd be trouble, had that sense. The pure arrogance in his cocky attitude reminded her of the foolish shems that so often pulled the same shit in the alienage. The same fools she happily relieved of their heads after they killed her fiance and ruined her wedding. Rylee's fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her own palms as she squeezed them tight in her frustration.

"He wouldn't have done anything."

Isethari's light lilt stirred Rylee from her thoughts. She frowned and looked over at the young woman in utter disbelief. Her ear twitched again. Could she really be so naive? And more importantly, was this a Dalish thing or a... a her thing? She uncurled her fingers, shifting around in place to better look at her companion.

"You can't be serious."

"And why not?" Isethari frowned back.

"I can't believe I have to explain this," she muttered to herself. "Look... shems like that... no, men," she corrected herself, "like that are all the over the place and they're all the fuckin' same. 'No' ain't a word they understand. It don't go through their thick skulls." She gestured to her own head as she spoke, shaking it again with another sigh. "They..." she trailed off, in spite of the prompting look from Isethari. "They take what they want,” she continued, “all of what they want - regardless."

"There were people around, though! Someone would-"

"No." Rylee's voice was stern, dark and bitter at the edges. "If he didn't get put in his place, he would have tried something. Some ain't all stupid, they think they're real sneaky, right? They'll wait, plan, watch and come take what they think is theirs when you ain't expectin' it." She deflated, pushing a lose strand of hair away from her eyes. "They'll take everything," she added, her voice a harsh whisper.

She watched as Isethari's expression changed from curiosity and confusion to one laced with concern.

"Did something happen t-to you?" she asked, voice hushed.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Finally, she nodded and turned back to the other shems. Rylee rolled her eyes and looked back at her fellow elf. All she could see was moon kissed hair draped over a wolf's body. She curled her lip a bit, but said nothing. Isethari had said something about waiting and praying over the dead wolves, but the others wanted to keep moving. This was the best compromise - especially for Rylee. She got a few minutes away from the shems and with one of her own kind. Though, she was quickly learning her own kind were... odd. And she'd yet to sort out if any of these oddities were a Dalish thing or an Isethari thing.

"It isn't right they do this."

Rylee's brows pulled together in confusion, she swung her head around to look at her companion. "What?"

"It isn't right," she repeated.

Walking back over, Rylee bit on her tongue to refrain from her immediate response. Namely to point out she fucking heard her, but it made no sense. She stopped next to Isethari and looked down at her, arms crossed over her chest.

"What isn't right?"

"This," Isethari gestured to the dead wolves. "To kill senselessly, needlessly."

Slowly, Rylee unfurled her arms from her chest and knelt down beside her. Was that a Dalish thing? That wasn't what she'd heard, especially from some of the more outlandish tales her people liked to tell. Wild warriors, bound by no one but themselves, free to do as they please and deal with shems as they saw fit. But this? This was unheard of in everything Rylee knew.

"They were aggressive and they were in our path," Rylee shrugged. "We have a job to do and-"

"No!"

Rylee's ears twitched, eyes going wide in shock at the piercing shriek. She shifted, standing up and taking an awkward step back.

"We didn't give them a chance. I could have..." Isethari trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you Dalish speak to animals or something?" The look Rylee received made her choke on a laugh. "Uh, okay, not a Dalish thing. Then... what? They're animals, we probably walked into their territory or something."

"That doesn't make it right!" With a loud huff, Isethari stood up sharply and walked over to the next animal. Rylee watched as she brandished a knife and knelt at the next wolf. Her lips began to move, but Rylee couldn't hear any words.

She awkwardly bobbed up and down, then back and forth from her toes to her heels. Rylee was itching to sink her daggers into darkspawn, but here she was playing babysitter. By her own choice or not, it didn't matter. She needed to vent some still lingering anger - and the frustration that was currently mounting.

Rylee had lost count at how long she stood there, rocking from heel to toe and counting weeds in their path ahead. But, finally, Isethari rose and stepped over to her side.

"Let's just go." Her voice was soft, defeated.

Stopping her fidgeting, Rylee tilted her head at her companion. "Ready?"

"No."

Her mouth dropped open a second, then she snapped it closed and shook her head. This young woman was an odd one, of that Rylee was more than certain. It was just a matter of picking out what was her and what was Dalish.

"Then... uh, why?" Rylee shifted and scratched under the bracers on her wrists. She chased the itch up her arm while she peered at Isethari, waiting for an answer.

"There's too many," Isethari sighed. "And I don't suppose we have time to return them to the camp to be used." A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. "I have asked Andruil for forgiveness. We should go now."

"Andruil?"

Isethari nodded, remaining silent as they started off. With luck, they'd catch up to their fellow recruits before they reached the old tower, but Rylee was now more keen on understanding who this 'Andruil' was. A goddess, she assumed, since no other soul had joined them in the wilds since they started this venture.

“Who is she?"

16. — daybreak

Isethari squinted from where she lay on her bedroll, the sun starting to peek over the horizon. Daybreak. Ugh. She groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes and squeezing them shut even tighter. She hated mornings, hated daylight. For as long as she could remember she'd always had more of an affinity to evenings and to night. This whole sleeping through the night and then moving during the day was atrocious for her schedule. Or what she'd hoped it could have been joining the wardens. The one silver lining, perhaps. Yet here she was, rising with the sun and hating every second of it.

She sighed, lifting her arm just enough to peer to her side and see if Rylee was still sleeping. The mess of red hair splayed every which way, along with the soft rhythmic breathing, indicated she was. Another sigh. Rolling onto her stomach, Isethari now draped her arm over Rylee's midsection and buried her face against the other elf's shoulder blade. This stirred Rylee just a little, just enough to break her deep breathing. She didn't move much though, muttering indiscernible words under her breath.

"Ir abelas," Isethari whispered.

"Huh?"

"Sorry."

Rylee waved vaguely and halfheartedly, taking Isethari's arm and pulling her closer against her.

"I don't want to get up either," she murmured into her other arm. "Think Princess will let us sleep in today?"

With another sigh, Isethari lifted her head a bit and kissed the back of Rylee's shoulder. "I doubt it."

"Bitch," she complained. "Not like there's an archdemon anymore."

"We need to go to Amaranthine." Isethari trailed more feather light kisses along Rylee's back, now reaching her neck.

"I don't fuckin' care. We deserve a damned rest."

"And you've had one." Eleri's voiced wafted over the quiet of the camp. Both elves groaned. "Now get up already, we need to get moving."

"I'm gonna kill her," Rylee muttered.

"No you won't, vhenan." This time when Isethari went to kiss her, Rylee turned in time to catch her lips instead.

"I might," she insisted when they parted.

"No, you won't. Maybe when we get to the keep we can have more time."

"Fine."