...yet she's not what he expects at all. No mockery, no laughter, no threats. No speech to grate at his nerves, promising this and that to be done to Hawke, or any other of his friends.
No chains.
Just a smile and a off-handed comment. Dressed in leaves.]
What is it?
[He demands, cracks in his calm composure, gauntlets curved into half-fists to keep himself back, to not grab his sword just yet. Fenris shifts his weight, bare feet hard against the floor; ready to fight or run.
He expects more, he expects shadows in every corner and he hates it.]
no subject
...yet she's not what he expects at all. No mockery, no laughter, no threats. No speech to grate at his nerves, promising this and that to be done to Hawke, or any other of his friends.
No chains.
Just a smile and a off-handed comment. Dressed in leaves.]
What is it?
[He demands, cracks in his calm composure, gauntlets curved into half-fists to keep himself back, to not grab his sword just yet. Fenris shifts his weight, bare feet hard against the floor; ready to fight or run.
He expects more, he expects shadows in every corner and he hates it.]