Pragmatic isn't always a comforting word to here, even when Ferelden is the only home you've ever known. Flemeth could defend herself with that word and too many people would nod and say yes, in such times, being such a person as she is, with a daughter such as Morrigan then yes, by all means be pragmatic and ruthless. Kieran never suffered that, by the time she had come to love him, still dependent and fragile on her for everything in the world she already knew he couldn't just be part of a plan the way she was.

It's why he's a normal boy. Why he laughs and sleeps soundly in a crowded tavern without any fear. Why this whole journey has been a great adventure and she knows he'll be delighted to see a new stranger, an elf that doesn't shy away and duck their head whenever they hear a voice calling out 'rabbit'.

"If you knew how long it took to get him to sleep such as this...Many a tale is told of this place, the history, the savagery, that we are barbarians ready to descend into tribal bands once again when peace shatters." She laughs quietly, shaking her head, glad that she can without Orlesians feeling the need to teach her about her own home. "He had a busy day what wolves so bold one might mistake them for being tainted and mad." Country air is good for him though, camping out under the stars as she whispers the stories in his ear the way she did when he was still small enough to nestle in her arms.