A strange transition, she might say, or, This all must be terribly difficult.
She might say it, were she speaking to another, were she speaking from another's tongue. Such sentiments would only ring false of her own. She’s never been skilled with the lie of inaction. Grief is something that you carry, bury, else burn for fuel. What sympathy she can offer lies in opportunity: To throw oneself forward into a task, to keep moving.
"I am late of Val Royeaux." Orlesian. Not enough, by some measure, but three decades of the city have smoothed her border accent. "Sent with the turn of the year to assist the Inquisition’s forces."
Ostensibly a goodwill measure. An addition, rueful,
(Less casual than it's shaped to appear,)
"Maker knows we need any help we can get."
A few cursory swings, to test the weight of the blade, to adjust her stance to something more slippery. Her pace shifts as she enters the ring, eyes flinted with appraisal.
no subject
Wren agrees. Two weeks —
A strange transition, she might say, or, This all must be terribly difficult.
She might say it, were she speaking to another, were she speaking from another's tongue. Such sentiments would only ring false of her own. She’s never been skilled with the lie of inaction. Grief is something that you carry, bury, else burn for fuel. What sympathy she can offer lies in opportunity: To throw oneself forward into a task, to keep moving.
"I am late of Val Royeaux." Orlesian. Not enough, by some measure, but three decades of the city have smoothed her border accent. "Sent with the turn of the year to assist the Inquisition’s forces."
Ostensibly a goodwill measure. An addition, rueful,
(Less casual than it's shaped to appear,)
"Maker knows we need any help we can get."
A few cursory swings, to test the weight of the blade, to adjust her stance to something more slippery. Her pace shifts as she enters the ring, eyes flinted with appraisal.
It’ll do.