[ The healer has the bloodiest hands. It's a mantra that gets him through some of the lonelier hours. ]

Yes. There must be someone to carry the burden of choice so that others may breathe freely and live as best they can.

[ Who would indeed. Solas has to force himself out of his own thoughts, pushing the twisting feeling inside of him to one side.

But, ah. He frowns, listening, and then -

He's silent, for a long, long moment. Then he laughs, a low chuckle, just enough to show his amusement before it calms and quietens. ]

Marvellous.