#sinaeths

And truly, speaking of the taunt -- the cheeky jester, just short of some bells to crimp in her hair -- it had been equal parts bewildering and borderline offensive. Goodness, the man's scarcely idle, running ragged as a carthorse as he so often is. He's built for it, at the very least, valleyed in his shoulders and thicker in his middle to heave all the world, and perhaps that explains his day's sad failings. Henry frowns. Only five tries, apparently, have hit their mark. "Haven't you something better to do than go about humbling folk?" their swordsman casually announces. He straights back and up and nocks another his shoulders. His eyes pinch. Down his arm, his muscles and power jump and pulse. "Not all of us are born plucking at them bowstrings like a lute. Make things sing pretty."

"i think solas has some theories." hypatia doesn't hold herself as strongly as vex'ahlia does. she doesn't know how. maybe part of her looks to emulate the half-elf a little, copy her stance, pretend she's as capable or as deadly as vex is, but every attempt so far fails. the herald of andraste is new to this, and haven, bitterly cold and haunted by the green overhang of the huge rift in the sky, is unwelcome and hard on her. "have you spoken to him at all?" she watches vex, skilled, aim an arrow at an unwelcome visitor, eliminating them with a deft motion and wordless precision. she's incredible. "if he gives you any trouble," hypatia goes on, breaching the silence between them, "just tell me, and i'll... i'll talk some sense into him. or something. he may be a little hard on you like he is on me." what does solas think of vex? she is half-elf. does he look down upon her because of that? if he does, hypatia will trip him or something. smash a plate of food in his face. "anyway. will you join me in the hinterlands tomorrow?" another look at vex's aim. "i could use your help, vex'ahlia."

dragonriding lessons.

"Must've been yesterday", he says dismissively, like he barely even remembers. "It isn't that bad, so I figured I can deal with it properly later."

❝ trevor is smarter than most give them credit for. ❞ her response is half a defence of his merit, and half an acceptance of a wordless challenge. though the teasing grin that replaces previous amusement would suggest otherwise, especially with the alcohol consumed to make up for the days he'd gone without on their travels. ❝ what do you suggest? magic is out of the question -- he will know it was us. or, at least that it was me. ❞ torso shifts as gaze flickers from the group to settle on vex -- evidently more experienced when it comes to pranks than the sorceress who preferred a much more direct approach when it came to messing with them; consequences be damned. one more frozen drink and they fear he might finally lose it.

Bam! "God Almighty, do you always go running your mouth like that?" She hits the wall. Oh, lord, does she ever! Even worse, she squawks with the merriment of a grackle on drink. He's likely to bruise come evening, unfortunately, something lavender at his hip to thumb at as he washes. However, with his adrenaline thumping and sweat dribbling down his temple, he feels only the jab of her gaze and his chest with her bow. "And what makes you think—" pinned as you are, posies in your cheeks, and body fight-flush "—that you'd even be enough had that happened to be true?" Ha! "Fancy yourself like them tender wines? Aye. Very sweet-like." He wounds her wrists tighter. "But I've a lowly peasant's tongue, haven't I? I take better to my ale."